Quidditch Kiss Cam
by fxkmattyhealy
Summary: It all started when Ginny Weasley comes up with the idea to have a live kiss cam during the Quidditch matches at hogwarts. All she wanted was Harry Potter to finally notice her as she sat next to him in the stands and the kiss cam to zoom in on them. But, things don't always go as planned. Instead, the camera decides to focus on Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.
1. 01: Ginny's Idea.

Chapter 01 : Ginny's Idea.

Ginny Weasley was in a daydream, a daydream where she imagined herself and Harry Potter together, running off into oblivion all whilst holding hands. She dreamed of kissing him and for him to finally notice how desperately she wanted him to make a move for her.

Was that too much to ask? She often questioned herself.

Now, as she sat in the Gryffindor common room, her face pressed against a glass window and her palm supporting the weight of her face, she gazed at the raven haired boy — his round glasses and his familiar scar, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at the joke her brother told him and the way he'd show off his perfect white teeth when he smiled.

"Oh Merlin." Ginny didn't realise that she had said that out loud, as a result, every person in the red and golden colored room was staring at her. Almost immediately, Ginny felt her cheeks flush. If it wasn't already embarrassing enough, Harry had also decided to look at her in her most embarrassing moments.

She only hoped that he hadn't caught her ogling him earlier.

"Are you okay Gin?" It was Ron who decided to speak up, an expression of genuine concern on his face.

Ginny panicked. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I'm brilliant!" she wanted to die in that one moment, dig a hole and crawl into it, or maybe go into the Chamber of Secrets again, only this time, she'd actually stand in front of the Basilik and wait till the giant snake killed her.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, not only because she was embarrassed but Harry freaking Potter was still watching her.

When neither one of the people in the room bought her excuse, she decided to say something. "Actually, I wanted to talk to Hermione." she looked at the bushy haired girl as her eyes shot up in surprise.

Yes, you, I want to talk to you, is that so surprising for you? She wanted to say. Hermione seemed to catch up on Ginny's poor attempt of saving herself from further embarrassment. Hermione was soon up on her feet, well, not after giggling silently to herself.

Of course she had known about Ginny having the hots for her best friend, what she didn't know was that Ginny had come up with a masterplan already to finally be with him, or at least, for him to notice her.

"Excuse me boys." the witch told her friends and briskly walked towards Ginny, she could see how nervous she was, it always happened whenever she was near Harry. Even she had grown accustomed to it by now.

Once Hermione was within a meter's radius to her, she jerked her towards herself with a jolt. She dragged her to the corner of the spacious room despite Hermione's 'ows'.

"Gin! Stop! My poor arm!" Hermione pulled her arm back, no wonder Ginny was on the Quiddich team, she had bruised up her arm a little from all the pulling. "Do you even have something to tell me or was that an excuse to save yourself from any further misery?" Ginny paled at her friend's words but soon recovered, she had to tell Hermione her brilliant idea and she was fully determined to tell her now.

"Let's talk outside." before Hermione could say anything, Ginny had already pulled her outside the Gryffindor common room, now, as they stalked the halls after curfew, talking, Hermione was growing increasingly worried about getting caught. She was the head girl, she had to do something to stop Ginny but the ginger haired girl just seemed so persistent.

Sighing, she only hoped that she would make this quick before any prefect catches them, imagine how much of a blow would that be to the head girl of the school.

"Ginny, you better talk fast because I swear to Godric, if someone catches us—" frantically, Hermione whipped her head around, her curls bouncing as she did so, and then pulled her down behind an armored knight in the hallway. "Speak, don't make me regret this."

Ginny smiled at her friend, she couldn't be happier at the choice of her friend, just knowing that Hermione cared enough to actually listen to her in the middle of the halls past curfew, made her heart warm. "Yes, as I was saying— I have a brilliant idea of getting Harry to finally notice me." she squealed just when Hermione sushed her down.

"Are you crazy?! She glanced around to make sure no one had caught them. Once satisfied, she sighed in relief.

"Don't you want to hear my thoughts on the plan?" Ginny poked Hermione to catch her attention, in response, the other girl only rolled her eyes, "Like you will give me a choice, talk." she instructed.

Ginny happily continued, she was dying to tell her by now. "Okay so, I've decided to come up with a Kiss Cam for our Quiddich matches." she waited for Hermione to react to her words but nothing came, if you don't count the confused expression on her face. Ginny took the liberty to continue, "Look, you know how kiss cams work in the Muggle world, right?"

It was as if realisation hit Hermione like a bag of bricks, her chocolate eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect O. "How do you—"

"There are Muggle movies alright, it's no big deal. I've been watching a few for a while now. Must say, really good." she giggled. "Anyways, as I was saying, tomorrow, it's Gryffindor against Ravenclaw, and of course, we'll all go just like we usually do and that's where you'll come in, you're going to make our seats align in such a way that me and Harry get to sit together and also, away from you lot, for privacy reasons of course, and then the kiss cam will zoom in on us, and bam! We're going to be kissing!"

Hermione let Ginny's words sink in, not only did it sound extremely obnoxious but also had several loopholes. She was also offended a bit when she said away from their lot but she didn't let it show, this was all about Ginny, she had to remind herself.

"How will you get McGonagall to agree on this?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Ginny whose smile didn't seem to flatter which for some reason, made hermione annoyed.

"Already worked on that, she thinks it's a nice idea," when Hermione narrowed her eyes at her, she huffed in annoyance. "Fine, I may or may not have left out on the kissing part! But it's okay! She won't do anything too rash, I mean—"

"Ginny, this is McGonagall we're talking about. She will have your head on a stick." Hermione deadpaned.

"So what? She'll stop the kiss cam from happening in next games but this time she doesn't know and it's my only chance to get Harry to notice me, it would be perfect, please 'Mione, pretty please." Ginny made huge puppy eyes and in that moment, Hermione was a goner.

"Okay fine, I'll help you because you're my friend and I love you Gin, even though I think this plan is stupid, I will help you." Hermione let a small smile form on her lips, her heart fluttered at Ginny who was willing to take such drastic steps for her love, and here she was.

"Oh my God! Thank you so mu—" but Ginny never got to finish the sentence because an intended cough had brought them out of their little happy bubble moments ago.

Stunned, both girls looked up from their crouched position to see a familiar pale blond smirking down at them in amusement. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Weaselette and the bloody head girl? Out in the halls after curfew? Interesting, very interesting." Draco couldn't stop himself from sneering, just the petty sight of Gryffindors sent him into overdrive, especially seeing bloody Granger.

Hermione couldn't believe their bad luck, out of everyone they could've been found by, all the bloody prefects, and they were spotted by Malfoy, such a shame.

Hermione and Ginny hauled themselves up. Sometimes, she forgot that he was head boy. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny grit her teeth but he paid her no mind, instead, he turned his silvery gray gaze to his fellow head girl.

"Do you have any idea how badly this could effect your reputation, head girl?" he taunted her, flicking the head girl badge on her robes. "I wonder what would McGonagall say about her favorite student breaking the school rules, hmm." Draco continued annoyingly, he was testing Hermione and she sure as hell knew that.

She wouldn't break in front of him, him of all people.

"Piss off, Malfoy." she sneered in response and grabbed Ginny's arm, already dragging her back to the common room but before she could step inside, she heard a familiar sound that sent chills down her spine.

"30 points from Gryffindor, Granger." and that was when she cursed the system that gave head boy and girl to take and give points to students.

As if it could not be any worse, she heard him say, "Each."


	2. 02 : The Game

Hermione was in the library early in the morning the next day, she wanted to get her homework done before the match today.

The library was her sanctuary, it was her friend and a joyous companion, especially at the time of daylight because then, she'd be the only one there except for the librarian, madam Pince.

Knowing that her friends would succeed in dragging her to the game later that day, only made her work faster. She scribbled away her potions essay, then her history of magic paper that was due on Monday followed by finally solving a handful amount of Arithmancy equations.

She was only on her second equation when someone sat in the seat opposite to her. The striking set of pale blond locks paid no attention to her just the way Hermione didn't either. Hermione couldn't help but stare at how Draco Malfoy, aka the Head Boy, plucked a book from the Dark Arts section of the library and dropped into the seat right in front of her.

Typical.

After all, she didn't expect him to pick a Muggle book now, did she?

She wanted to believe that he hadn't seen her, of course, if he had, he'd never sit on the same table as her - let alone anywhere near her.

But her thoughts were confirmed when he looked up from his book, his gray/silver eyes only merely showing with his pale blond mop of hair. "Granger." He spoke in a sharp voice, it almost felt screeching to her ears.

"Malfoy." she drawled with equal disgust, her whole mood turning sour. It was weird how one person could make your mood turn a whole 360 degrees, only that person happened to be Draco Malfoy to Hermione. She concluded that the only reason Draco Malfoy sat at the same table as her was because that table was the only one nearest to the window, it was actually his spot, Hermione knew that much, whenever she'd come to the library, frequently, she found himself in the same place right near the window, sometimes reading, sometimes gazing out the window.

One thing she had particularly noticed was that whenever it rained, he would only watch the rain though the glass, that was the one time he always abandoned the books. She had watched him quite oftenly starstruck by the rain as drops rolled down the glass while he closed his eyes and breathed heavily.

Of course, she made herself anything but seem like a stalker.

"You are in my spot, you know that. I know you do." Draco's voice was surprisingly soft. Hermione felt her ears turn red, thank God for bushy hair to conceal that embarrassment.

"Do you want me to leave then?" She was already putting away her still unfinished homework, not even bothering to look at the pale blonde boy in front of her.

"No you can stay," Hermione felt like she didn't hear him right, and so, she turned to face him, completely stunned. That was when he smirked and slid out of the seat, his book in his hands, "I'll find someplace that doesn't reek of your insufferable know-it-all scent."

She was going to have his head on a stick one day, she promised herself that then and there.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry, Ron and Ginny were getting ready to go to the game, just like many of the rest. Some of them decided to sleep in on a weekend, while some decided to go cheer for their house on the pitch. All Hermione wanted was to finish her Arithmancy equations because bloody Malfoy had caused her not to in the morning.

I'll get back to you, Malfoy. She told herself.

When the witch located Ginny, she almost screamed that her plan had so many loopholes, Hermione didn't want her friend to be embarrassed in front of so many people, she felt as if it was her duty to prevent anything that would cause her friend any kind of damage. "Ginny, you told me to arrange our seats in such a way that you and Harry sit alone then us lot, right? Well guess what? You both are on the team! How is this supposed to work?"

Ginny smiled at her, almost throwing a fit of laughter at her friend's cautiousness. Hermione just had to be prepared for anything, that was just how she was, she planned every intricate detail before implementing, Ginny should've known.

"Hello to you too Hermione, I'm good, thanks for asking. Yes, a bit nervous but I'm fine." when Hermione didn't laugh she took the liberty to continue after a sigh. "Look, I know you're right and I only realised this later when I was in bed, I should've told you sooner though but I did come up with a better plan to overcome this." she explained, "As we're both on the team, I thought we could kiss live while on the pitch! Right after we win! Oh and I know we'll win, we're way better than them, don't worry."

Both girls basked in the silence, it was the calm before the storm, but Ginny didn't know that.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND? Hermione bellowed, her eyes were wide and she resembled everything writers told about scary witches in their BOOKS. "KISSING IS ONE THING, BUT KISSING ON THE PITCH AFTER THE GAME—" she yelled, "And what if he doesn't kiss you! What if it's totally embarrassing!"

"Relax, I've charmed the bloody thing, it will make him wish instantly to kiss me, just like it would make me, it's a win-win. All I have to do is think of Harry when I see the camera and bam! The charm would be activated! If I don't look at him immediately after I see the camera, it won't work." she explained when Hermione still looked confused.

" THAT IS RIDICULOUS—"

Ginny cast a silencing charm on her friend which only agitated her more. That wasn't a wise move to try on the brightest witch of her age.

But she finally gave up speakimg because clearly it was not going to make Ginny reconsider her plan, she was so adamant about it that Hermione knew she was the one who had to take a leap of faith this time, even though she didn't like it, she had to, for her friend.

It was finally happening, she was in the stands, dressed in her favourite baby blue top and jeans, a red and gold colored scarf resting around her neck. In her hands, she held the Gryffindor crest flag as if she couldn't be more proud of her house. Besides her, there sat Parvati, Dean and Seamus. Her eyes lingered on the now emerging Gryffindor team — Harry, Ron, Ginny and the others.

Ginny smiled brightly the moment her eyes landed on Hermione, in return, she waved enthusiastically at the ginger haired girl. The Game was set, just when the golden snitch was released by Madam Hooch, a familiar woman in a green dress and a tall hat approached Hermione. "Professor." she smiled.

Minerva McGonagall was indeed happy to see her favourite student, or so told the grin on her aging face. "Hello Miss Granger, I'm afraid I have a task for you."

Hermione's eyes went to Ginny and then Harry, she wanted to support her friend with her presence knowing how much it would mean to her, but she also couldn't tell Professor McGonagall no. "Of course, professor." With a sigh, she stood up and followed the woman further back into the stands.

"What's he doing here?" Hermione all but asked politely, she didn't care if she was being rude but seeing Malfoy after the embarrassing event today in the library was simply unacceptable.

"The feeling is mutual, Granger." Draco took long strides towards her, almost ready to kill her when Professor McGonagall put a hand to his chest and lightly pushed him away, just like she did with Hermione who seemed like she was ready to pounce on him any moment now.

"Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger," The old woman looked at both of them sternly, "This is not the kind of behaviour I expect from you two, please behave yourselves or I will be forced to deduct points from your respective houses." At that, both of them scoffed in unison but didn't bicker, that was something.

"The house stands have been decided to be submerged today, I do not know the exact reason but they have been," When neither one of the two responded, she decided to continue, "It means that there will be no separate stands for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, they'll both be asked to be seated in one stand, now—"

"You want me to stand next to Gryffindors?!" Draco sheriked and Hermione almost laughed, she knew the passion of hate he had towards the, as he called them, Petty Gryffindors. "This is outrageous!"

McGonagall looked like she was having a headache, with a hand, she rubbed her temples and had her eyes closed. "Mister Malfoy, interrupt me one more time and this time I will deduct a hundred points from Slytherin. 10 points from Slytherin." she said and Hermione watched as Draco's jaw ticked, it seemed like he wanted to scream at the woman but bit his tongue.

"Very well then," the transfigurations teacher exclamaied, "As Head boy and Head girl, you both are required to maintain discipline amongst tye students in the stands and ensure that everything is in order and no misbehavior takes place. You both have the liberty to take points, as you know already, I expect that you shall make the best use of this opportunity. Now, I suppose the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students would've been submerged by now, this is where your job begins." and then, she was off.

True to her words, when Draco and Hermione both made their way to the stands after whining, they saw the blues and reds all mixed together— bickering and shouting at the game continued. Gryffindor was in lead, Hermione noted, Draco, on the other hand felt disgusted by the mere sight of Gryffindors to even look at the game.

Hermione knew he had an undying love for only two things in this world; his ego and Quiddich.

Both of the heads pushed their way through the students and ensured discipline like they were expected too. There were several professors sitting but they couldn't actually sit amongst the students and ensure mandatory school discipline, only the students themselves could.

"You will regret throwing these chocolate frogs' wrappers at the Quiddich pitch, Longbottom." Draco rolled his eyes and snatched the frogs from his hands, only to be met with complaining but like he gave a slythershit.

Hermione herself was busy trying to make the students sit in one place when she finally heard the final whistle after what felt like hours, Gryffindor had won, she couldn't have been happier, but then a flying odd box with a lens caught her attention, just like it did everyone else's, even Draco's. Nobody knew what it was expect Ginny and Hermione, suddenly, she felt jittery, this was it.

Draco had made his way to Hermione, pushing off students, literally to make way. He was going to tell her to take it from here and that he was done with his bloody head boy duties just when Granger shouted, "Congratulations, Ginny!"

And that was the biggest mistake Ginny Weasley ever made, to turn around from Harry Potter and look directly at Hermione and Draco standing right next to each other right after she had looked at the kiss cam, her eyes widened completely, nearly ready to pop out if their sockets. Ginny shouted a discreet, "NO!" but it was too late.

Draco and Hermione were already smiling at each other, everyone was looking at them, nothing could be done to prevent it, prevent what came next.

"I want to kiss you, Granger." by now, Draco's words were clearly heard on the full screen through the camera lens, everyone was ready to throw a fit any moment now. Everyone looked horrified when Draco touched Hermione's cheek and she leaned into his touch, the smile never leaving her face.

"Then what's stoping you?" She had been charmed, it was powerful, and she had lost all sense just like Draco. Ginny watched in horror as Hermione bit her lip seductively before leaving right into his face, her lips only half an inch apart.

She remembered her ears fling deaf when Ron had shouted the moment their lips had touched and Hermione's arm went around his neck, she remembered watching the two of them kiss like star-crossed lovers deeply in love, tongue, teeth, hell, whatever you name it was involved.

Ginny also remembered Ron fainting and falling off his broomstick...


	3. 03 : The Aftermath

"I loathe you." —Hermione

"I loathed you first."—Draco

"Hermione, please open the door. I have been knocking for hours now, bloody hell, what did you charm this thing with?! No spell is working on the damn thing! Heck, I even threw a bloody chair and it snapped!" Ginny was now shouting at the door, completely oblivious to Harry at the back who held Ron, who, even though had gained consciousness, still felt dizzy at the mere thought of seeing his best friend locking lips with none other than Draco Malfoy, his biggest enemy.

" 'Mione, please open the door, I am sorry," she spoke in a small voice. "I am so sorry, this is all my fault and I know that, please just open the do-" the door suddenly burst open and Hermione ran past them all, she didn't stop to see her best friends nor did she want to see them right now, all she wanted was to wake up from this horrific nightmare already.

Ginny was considerate enough to not run after her, for that, Hermione was thankful. As the witch reached the halls, her tears had stopped, all she felt now was some kind of option she couldn't quite put a finger on. It was something like a mixture of disgust, anger, sadness and utter hate, utter hate for Malfoy.

But Hermione knew it wasn't his fault, the bloody thing had been charmed to make the two people kiss, and if it was for him, he would've never kissed her, what would he have told his parents then!? That he kissed someone inferior to him? In that moment, Hermione actually wanted to know what would his parents say about the two of them kissing, she wanted to see him desperately search for an excuse and then making an utter fool of himself in front of them.

The head girl dorm room was filled with her soft cries once again. Hermione's shoulders shook as she sobbed, her small frame curled on the floor against the wall. If they had to make things worse, she knew Malfoy would return sometime to this specific dorm assigned to the head girl and head boy, and all she wanted was to scream at this bloody rule at that point.

Her legs shook as she ran towards the loo, her tears blurred her vision tremendously but that didn't stop her from slamming the door open and positioning herself in front of the sink. She looked into the mirror, eyes red and puffy, her shoulders shaking and her lips quivering.

What have I done? She couldn't help but ask herself.

Hermione wanted to scream at Ginny for her stupid idea, she wanted to tell everyone who saw them kissing on the wide screen that this wasn't her idea, she was merely the victim of Ginny's ploys. She wanted to wipe off every person's memory of that incident of she could.

If only she could...

Hesitantly, Hermione touched two fingers to her lips as she closed her eyes, feeling the unfamiliar cold set of lips that pressed up against her's to give her the most passionate kiss she had ever had, the one that took your breath away. Hermione had read about such kisses in Muggle books countless times, how simple contacts as such made you fall more in love the more you think about them, but this time, Hermione had had a clear view of reality, because in her case, she only hated Draco Malfoy more and more every time she thought about that kiss.

Every story had two aspects to it, similarly, on the other side of the parallel universe, Draco Malfoy barged into McGonagall's office after he had had his share of the breakdown.

From breaking every mirror in the boys' lavatory, and of course repairing them with a swish of his wand, he had marched right into the office of the head mistress, not bothering to do something about that bloody hand of his. Minerva had looked at him, she was no stranger to all that had happened, from the kiss cam to the two heads of the school kissing in front of a big screen, she now wanted to reach the depth of the matter.

So she had called in the pale blond boy, only hoping that the brightest witch of her age would come too like she had been asked to.

Draco stood his ground, his jaw clenching. He indeed looked like a mess, the head mistress concluded. His robes were a little bloody, maybe they had been used to wipe off some of the blood on his hand. His silver gray eyes looked like they hadn't seen a prey in a long time, and now, now was finally a chance to have a feed. As out of order he seemed, he also looked perfectly calm, his breathing was steady, if it wasn't for the storm in his eyes, nobody would've ever known how much he wanted to kill Hermione Granger in that moment.

"Mister Malfoy, what have you done to your hand?" McGonagall inspected the moment her eyes landed on the infuriated boy. She was about to proudce her wand from her robes when Draco held up his good hand, "Can we get down with this already?" he hid his bloodied hand behind his back just when McGonagall let her eyes travel to his hand.

"I'm waiting for Miss Granger—" Minerva didn't miss the sharp intake of breath by Draco, probably of disgust and anger at her mere name. "In the mean time, let me heal your hand." she offered him but Draco didn't budge.

Truth was, he wanted the pain to stay, he wanted the gash to bloody bleed, he wanted his suffering to heighten and intensify upto the point where he would not have to remember about kissing someone liek Granger. His insides were screaming at him to do something— maybe flip over McGonagall's table or maybe even just crack Granger's skull in two.

Moreover, he wanted to scream at himself for being so stupid, he should've kept his guard up. Charmed or not, Draco Malfoy had to watch his back at all times, whether that be from a bloody flying camera. Before Draco could do something brash, and McGonagall could speak, in entered the Gryffindor witch, her eyes clearly puffy from all the crying.

Unlike Draco, the storm in her eyes was much calmer, it seemed like she had already had her fair share of all the trauma, and now, she was drained, void of all emotions. Her curls were wild, her face was emotionless.

Until...

Her gaze fell upon Draco who looked at her like she was his new prey, his gray eyes warned her for what came next but Hermione was also sending him the same message with her upright and rigid posture. Both of them continued their stare off, not even looking at McGonagall when she cleared her throat. Hermione's gaze briefly fell on his bloody hand and momentarily, she felt remorse for the pale boy in front of her— no matter how bizzare the events of today might have been, she would've never thought to hurt herself.

As much as she hated Malfoy, she didn't want, even for him, to inflict pain on himself. No one deserved that, that was just how pure Hermione Jean Granger was, couldn't even see her biggest enemies in pain. Her brown eyes softened for a moment but when he screamed at her, she knew he had another thing coming.

This was going to be hell, keeping up with Malfoy and explaining this crap to the head mistress, all whilst battling her inner demons.

The last thing she remembered before storming out of the office was the headmistress calling her back for an explanation and Malfoy practically running after her in the halls.


	4. 04 : Reminders

"Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies."

—Tom Marvolo Riddle

The sad truth about reality was that it always came with reminders. No matter how hard one tried to run away from the events of the past, somehow, all actions managed to bite us back in the ass in the form of consequences that we had ignored. Similarly, it was no surprise when Draco Malfoy spun her around, the cold skin of his hand coming into direct contact with her hot skin.

It was only then when Hermione's eyes fell on his hand that he realized what he had done, realized that he had touched someone like her, touched her.

Because after all, blood prejudice was still the most important thing to Draco Lucius Malfoy, the war hadn't changed him at all, after all. He was still the same cold bastard she had punched in their third year.

You could see it in his eyes, he wanted to scream that bloody insult at her, you could see the pain he wanted her to feel by hurling the same insult at her in that one moment which had ruined her life.

Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood.

As quickly as it had happened, it vanished, the moment was gone when he retreated back, the silver storm in his eyes in a an uproar and ready to unleash. As if calculating his actions, he took a steady step in her direction, careful to keep it not too close yet, intimidating and fearful. Hermione was on the brink of losing her sanity as she gazed into his eyes, they had the strange power to lure you right into them and cage you, Hermione noted dully.

Then, ever so slowly, like a faint whisper, she heard it for herself, "You mudblood." She wanted to believe that she was stronger than she was the first time he had called her that but truth was, she had never quite gotten over it the first time. Each night in their second year, she had cried herself to sleep thinking that she was inferior, as the crying finally dulled in the next few years, it never actually went away, that's what trauma did to you, it made a permanent house in your heart and played games on you till it satisfied its sickening thirst to torture you.

Torture you just for the day.

The sound of his teeth clattering brought Hermione back from her flashbacks of Bellatrix torturing her, carving the insult into the skin of her arm permanently. Hermione lifted her gaze, "Like you're any better, traitor." She spat with matching wit and venom in her voice. Her cool mask falling off in an instant. This seemed to take Draco by surprise, or so said the slight widening of his silver eyes. In an instant, he was dragged to the past where he had been forced to do what he had done.

She's just trying to provoke you, she doesn't have the faintest clue of what you had to endure. You didn't have a choice. He tells himself reassuringly.

But there is also a voice in the back of his mind screaming 'Liar, you are a coward.'

He doesn't let his facade fall, something he was best known for. "Why did I feel the urge to—" He couldn't even get the words out of his mouth, it was that pathetic.

"Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?" Hermione smirked knowingly at him, though still hurt, she was a warrior, she was brave, she was a Gryffindor. "Can't even say it out loud? Huh? Can't say that you kissed—" She took the liberty to devour the satisfaction when his face twisted in disgust. "A mudblood?"

"Don't change the subject, tell me how did this happen!" Draco's voice was booming in the dim-lit corridor, her heart skipped a beat at the shiver that went down her spine because of it.

"Why did this happen? I would never kiss someone like you in my right mind, Merlin, I would never kiss you even if I had been drunken into oblivion! So do tell me Granger," He spat, "Then why did I kiss someone as filthy and impure as you?" His voice had a menacing edge to it, cold and disgruntled. It was like a low whisper that brushed against your ear, making you run for the hills, like a caged animal.

Hermione held his gaze for a full minute or maybe more, no one knows.

If he wanted to know then fine, have it his way then.

And so she told him, trying her best to not breakdown in between the sharp glances he threw at her, or the way he pulled at the roots of his thin platinum blond hair, or when he looked into her eyes and whispered standing too close to her lips, "You all will regret this."

Hermione had refused to acknowledge her friends after the events of today. She wanted to curl up into a ball and read Hogwarts: A History for the umpteenth time whilst sipping on some hot tea in her bed. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, it was; given her state. Hermione was in her head girl dorm room, she tried to read the thick volume in front of her but she just couldn't. She'd lose her focus and then forget where she was.

It kept happening until she finally gave up and closet he stupid thing with a bang.

Now, alone she sat in her dorm room, which of course, she shared with Draco dearest.

Speaking of that prat, Hermione noted that it had been several hours since she last saw him. After his hateful glare and nearly threatening threat, she had watched him stalk off into the dark. She had given up on her head girl duties, just for today. There seemed nothing more alluring than being curled up in her bed, avoiding the faintest worries of tomorrow.

Just when she thought she'd let her eyes close, the heard the sound of the main door being jerked open, the chains attached to it, clattered against the wood.

So his anger hasn't subsidized, Hermione was quick to take notice.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her ear pressed to her door, hearing small but firm noises from the other side of the wooden door. She also heard the sound of a cooking pot being thrown onto thr ground, the vibration nearly making her jump.

If Draco Malfoy wanted his presence to be known, he sure made a good act of getting that done.

Just when she was sure that she heard his door close, she let out a small sigh and straightened her back, ready to step out and take in the damage he had done. She gathered her red Gryffindor scarf and put it around her neck to tackle the chilly weather before slipping on her shoes at the edge of the bed.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight before her, clearly, there had been more damage done than just a simple pot being thrown on the bloody ground. A sob escaped her lips when she realised that he had smashed her picture frame near the books she kept on the floor, right beside the little living area she liked to call; a picture of Hermione, Harry and Ron.

Tears brimmed in her eyes at the mere sight, Hermione, however, dared not to let even a single one slip. She refused to cry for the likes of that bastard, she simply refused to. With a wave of her want, she muttered, "Reparo," instantly easing at the sight when the broken glass frame fixed automatically.

She set the frame down, her smile, soft, it was then when she felt someone breathe onto her neck from behind, her eyes went wide and before she could retreat to the security of her wand, Draco had already pinned her down to the hard ground, her small and fragile wrists caught in his cold hands as he held them above her head.

For a second, Hermione thought he was going to do something that will get him into trouble, something brash like hurting her physically, but when she stopped struggling and yelling, all he did was look into her big chocolate eyes, as if trying to search for a door that will lead him away from his insanity, lead him to some place peaceful, some place where he could finally put away his mask of cruelty and breathe like any normal teen boy would.

But this wasn't just an ordinary teen boy, this was Draco Malfoy, he was anything but ordinary and normal, anything.

Hermione finally stopped, her lungs were begging her for air but she was too tried to protest now, this was like the icing on the cake after all she had endured the day.

But when the thunder cracked in the night sky, Hermione flinched, and so did Draco, but not because of the thunder strike, no, but because he had the brightest witch of her age, trapped right underneath his body, helpless and who knew?

Hermione Granger, war heroin, afraid of thunder?

Surely not him.

What Draco realised in holding her was that he wasn't feeling anything about being blood bounded, quite possibly, he enjoyed holding her skin and making her squirm under him, that's how sadistic his mind had gone. Draco realised that her skin was as smooth as a rose petal, fully bloomed and ready to be plucked, she was like that.

And it made him feel anything but the importance of blood purity, of course, he would never admit it, he had been heavily prejudiced after all, all his life.

When it felt like an eternity of not speaking between them, Draco inched closer to her mouth than ever, Hermione instantly turned away, her eyes closing at the mere sight of the monster atop of her.

Like a faint murmur, careful not to touch his lips to her ear, Hermione could feel the sadistic grin he would have on in that faint moment, "You don't know," he began, something coming over him as he allowed himself to let his lips brush her ear shell, "You don't know the choices I was given to choose from," He whispered in a hushed tone that made Hermione swallow.

"You don't know what I had to endure, you don't know anything." by now, his lips were touching her ear shell at every word he said. He twisted her wrist ever so slightly and painfully that made her moan in pain, "So don't you dare call me a traitor, don't you dare." he repeated his icy words like he was instructing a child.

As he finsied, so did his will to continue to look at her pathetic face. Draco stood up and ever so slowly walked towards his own room, leaving the bushy haired witch to cry when she saw the bluing skin on her wrists.

The bastard had an iron grip.

"Fuck you, Draco Malfoy, Fuck you." she yelled when he shut the door. Draco heard her, of course he did, and then, he smirked knowingly, like a predator setting his eyes on its prey.

"I will ruin you, you mudblood." was the last thing he whispered to himself before he laid in his bed.

Sleep never came, only the memory of kissing her senseless did, all night, until dawn when he finally took a sleeping draught, letting himself fall asleep right at the foot of his bed.

Hermione Granger's kiss plagued his mind all the time.


	5. 05 the Age of Innocence

"Happiness can be found even in the Darkest of times, only if one remembers to turn on the light."

-Albus Dumbledore

It had been a few days since that the last time Draco had seen the witch, he didn't know if he should be thrilled or plain infuriated. It was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel this way, it was unusual and unsettling. The aura inside his room had shifted uncomfortably, the usual allure of darkness and venom was bitter than usual, consequently, his mood.

He had been missing his classes, he knew, didn't even try to cover up for his missing work and he knew, now, when he stepped his foot in the potions' classroom, all of this will bite him sore in the ass. With his usual scowl framing his handsome features, Draco clutched his books tighter in his hands, his knuckles almost turning white with the lack of blood flow in his body.

With his chin held high and gaze straight, he locked eyes with the potions' teacher, Horace Slughorn greeted him with a usual smile on his face, to which Draco only narrowed his eyes at.

What's he playing at?

Before the Slytherin could open his mouth to speak, he was already cut off, "How are you feeling now, Mister Malfoy? Has the cold subsidized?" There was actual concern laced to his voice which made Draco uneasy to the maximum.

"Miss Granger told me you will be on leave for a few more days but it's good to have you back, please take a seat next to your fellow head." But the room was spinning, so was head. He wasn't listening. Draco felt like emptying his nonexistent breakfast right at Slughorn's shoes but he held his bitter tongue. When the potions' teacher walked away, it was only then that he let his words sink in.

please take a seat next to your fellow head.

On cue, his eyes cut sharply to the petty Gryffindor in the corner of the huge room. Draco realized she had been looking in his direction all this time, only lowering her gaze when Draco had caught her ogling him, red-handed. He didn't say anything, merely closed his eyes, sighing before he trudged his way to the girl who had been giving him plaguing nightmares about that one sensual kiss they shared the other day. Hermione made no action to take notice of the blond boy now sitting next to her, she continues mixing several substances together as if she herself didn't know what exactly was she doing.

Draco was aware of the tension between them, he hadn't missed the fear in her eyes the other day when he had miraculously tortured her, burned her skin with his touch as he enjoyed watching the girl squirm under his body weight. He hadn't missed the glint of his sadistic self in her eyes for him, no, he was a clear witness to it all.

But he kept his mouth shut, well, at least till the end of class, that is.

Slughorn had just stepped outside of the room that he turned to the petty Gryffindor. Throughout the whole damn lecture he could not do anything but wonder why would Granger make up a damn excuse for him so she could save his sorry ass from trouble. Different things kept hurting his head but he just couldn't decipher anything at this very moment. It was then that Draco Malfoy decided to confront the witch himself (which, by the way, was the last thing he wanted to do) He knew, one look into her eyes and he would feel all those same emotions from that kiss, one look and he would be deprived off his sleep in the next coming nights, one look and he would be an absolute mess. So believe him when he let his eyes wander to her, the ground beneath his feet shook.

"I DO NOT NEED YOUR HELP!" His masculine voice had echoed all over the place, every student inside the room had turned their head to face the scene before them. Hermione cringed visibly, but only for a moment had she let her guard down before returning to her courageous Gryffindor self. She didn't shiver even a bit when he yelled again loudly, this time, much louder. "Don't you understand?" He hissed standing as close as an inch to her, ignoring everyone else in the room, "I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!"

Before he could hurl more insults in her face, Hermione snapped his cold wrist in her hands, trying to take him out of the room to explain but the sudden gasp leaving her mouth only confirmed what she had done. She held his wrist, dragging him outside the classroom which was filled with people already whispering to each other. Almost instantly, Draco's eyes went as wide as a saucer. His mind wasn't working anymore, only his eyes had locked themselves on the hand grasping onto his wrist like second skin.

Hermione was already regretting her decision to touch him, if that bloody kiss wasn't enough already, she had to go out and grab onto his wrist too now. She was pulled to an abrupt stop when Draco yanked his hand out of her embrace, "Don't you dare touch me again, you-"

Mudblood.

It was on the tip of his tongue but it never came out, all that did come out of his mouth was a hurling insult in the direction of the students eavesdropping on them, making them womble their way out of the room. By now, the whole school knew not to mess with the ex-deatheater.

When he turned his undivided attention back to the witch who had been keeping him up at nights, all she did was remain silent, which, for some reason, only made Draco angrier, she wasn't retaliating to his anger and it was making his head spin. "Don't touch me again, you hear that?" he voiced out, the silver of his eyes never leaving her warm browns.

When Hermione didn't say anything for a good long period of five minutes, he realised that he didn't need an explanation at all, why she saved him from trouble of heck, why was she so stupid to think that it would be a good idea to start a bond anyway in the first place.

Stupid Gryffindors, Draco thought to himself, always ready to help others even if they are clearly not asked to.

And then, there came a soft voice that cracked his world right then and there.

"Why didn't you say it?" Hermione let her gaze travel to the books he was holding, a mere book of potions (which she had most probably already read) held all her attention.

It was frightening.

Draco didn't dare ask her what she was talking about, he knew, for a fact, what she was referring to, he wasn't stupid, of course he did- still he managed to keep his mouth sealed. He started counting numbers in his head, keeping his mind busy to make sure he didn't feel the urge to answer her question.

"Why didn't you say it, Draco?" she called his name without any hesitation whatsoever, almost as if they were fast friends, childhood buddies even. She didn't make it sound foreign on her tongue, quite the opposite actually, like she had spoken his name all her life, and that was the scary thing because Draco didn't want to think if she had.

"It's none of your business." the expression on his face, however, told a different story.

He made the unforgivable mistake of looking at her in that moment, regretting it instantly when he let his eyes stare right into her soul, he could see she was hurt but who was he to care? That was him, all tough and upbeat on the outside and a mess on the inside, it was just who Draco Malfoy was, and nobody could change that.

The room felt like it was closing in on him, maybe it was the imaginary invitation she felt to kiss him again or maybe it was Draco, who wanted another piece of that broken kiss they shared, he didn't quite know.

And quite frankly, didn't even want to.

If he didn't get out of this room quick, he was going to do something he will regret in the morning, maybe even during the plaguing nightmares he has in his bed all alone at night.

So he did, he left without another word, his lips quivering at the mere thought of smashing his mouth against Granger's again.

Dear Merlin, what is wrong with me? He had asked himself before him gathering every ounce of courage his Slytherin blood had and running for the door.

One more look at her and I will lose it.

One more look at her and I will do something I will regret.

One more look at her and I won't be able to resist it anymore.

The last words he heard before running for his life were that of who else, but Hermione, "McGonagall told me to tell that lie!" she had yelled as fast as she could, hoping that he would've heard her and not think that she was some sick girl in love with someone like him, protecting him at all costs and dangers, she didn't want her wrong image to be plastered in his brain.

Like he cared about your image, she was quick to scold herself.

On the other side of the castle, Draco had locked himself up into his dorm room, which didn't help at all, knwoing that Granger would eventually return to the same place. He didn't know what has happening to him, his hands were shaking and his lips were quivering, a tingling and unfamiliar sensation made him unrest, the same tingling feeling which he had experienced when he had kissed her that day, that bloody awful day.

Draco kept his brain above his feelings and all these sensations, just like he always had, only hoping that he would succeed through this time as well, but a nagging feeling at the back of his mind kept telling him otherwise, because this time, Granger was involved.

Draco wasn't the only one feeling the sudden urge to kiss her again, apparently, it was also Hermione. As soon as he had fled the scene, she had wiped the back of her hand on her mouth instinctively, as if something was burning her delicate lips.

Only one person could've answered her question about this, and that was Ginny Weasley.

So without any further ado, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room, Harry was nowhere to be seen when Hermione stepped inside, Ron in the other hand couldn't even look at her, as if all this drama had been her fault. He had glanced at everywhere else except Hermione when she came, only adding to the aura of awkwardness.

Though hurt, Hermione didn't show anything like the brave witch she was, only when she had locked eyes with Ginny on the couch, she started speaking. "Ginny," she breathed, curling her lips inside to forget about the tingle she felt. "I need to talk to you." The concern in her eyes was enough for Ginny to step up almost instantly and follow her friend outside the common room.

She took a moment to smile, "Hermione what a pleasa-" but Hermione hadn't forgiven her friend yet, for all the humiliation she had to endure.

"Ginny please." she rushed in an irritated voice, "I need to know what you didn't tell me about that stupid charmed kiss cam of yours, I know you're hiding something and I want to know what it is, why am I feeling this way-" Hermione rambled, only stopping when the familiar electricity burned her lips once again, this time, it was sharper that all times before combined.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny asked, frantic, she put a hand on her shoulder to steady her friend, it seemed like she was going to pass out from the burn any moment now.

"Ginny, just please tell me, there is more to kiss cam than you let on, isn't there? Is this normal? I feel like-" she paused, swallowing her disgust when she opened her mouth again, "Feel like kissing him?" she almost dragged the words to make her point.

Ginny on the other hand, fiddled with the hem of her red sweatshirt, clearly not looking at Hermione.

"Ginny tell me what is it?" her patience was running thin, and the thought of going back to Malfoy didn't help to calm her nerves either.

"Well," Ginny started, "It makes you continue to want to kiss the other person to make that tingling sensation disappear... The burning feeling doesn't go away until... Almost one month... I'm so sorry, Hermione, I didn't know it would backfire this har-" But Hermione wasn't listening to her, the only thing that was running in circles in her mind was that she was going to have to kiss Draco Malfoy again in order to keep the burn at bay...

"But don't worry, as long as you keep kissing him from time to time, it's going to go away! It's not much! Whenever you feel like you've had enough of the stupid burn, only then it requires you to kiss the other person, I'm sorry, 'Mione." Ginny pleaded when Hermione didn't say anything.

"Doesn't any spell work against this?" she had crossed her fingers behind her back when she spoke tiredly, ready to fall any moment now.

"No, I'm sorry." she had said and all her world had cracked right at her feet.

Leave your thoughts! I am really looking forward to hear what you all say.


	6. 06 Let me kiss you, Granger

**"Someone still loves you."****—Radio Gaga by Queen **

Hermione was ready to throw a fucking fit, (or even the stupid coffee table in the living area) — that's just how much she had endured since she had encountered Ginny almost a week ago, four to be precise, she was counting. Thankfully, it was the weekend, so nobody had to see her in peak desperation by the time Saturday rolled in. The fact that she wasn't talking to any of her friends also helped a great deal, oddly, knowing that they won't come looking for her in the head dorm.

Hermione pressed her back against the bedroom door. While she panted in exasperation, she refused to kiss someone like him. Whatever happened, she had vowed to herself that she will not, whatsoever, stoop as low as kissing Draco Malfoy, even if that meant torturing herself and enduring that awful burn on her mouth.

"No! Shut up, Hermione!" she yelled at no one. Her hands covered her ears as she screamed, eyes screwed shut. The scream she let out was ear-piercing, she was sure Malfoy would be throwing a fit in his own room after hearing her scream. Her lips were burning and it was making her go crazy, five days alone had been a torture alone, she wouldn't fathom what would happen in the coming days.

Or you could just kiss him, he must be feeling the same way, remember?

"NO!" she yelled at herself again, this time in the mirror. All she wanted was peace, was it too much to ask? Apparently it was, Merlin, she was being punished for her friend's crimes. Just when Hermione picked up a pillow to scream into, she heard a cry from outside, undoubtedly Malfoy's. The hair on the back of her neck stood up at the screeching sound, as if someone was pouring melted steel onto someone's body, almost deafening her to insanity.

Her brain had stopped functioning by now, all that she could see was stars and darkness, her head spinning from all the screaming and the continuous burn gracing her mouth.

Hermione found herself, soon, pushing her door wide open and ramming it back into the hard stone wall behind the door. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight she was presented with— Draco Malfoy clutching his head in his hands, pulling at those platinum blond roots of his. This time, he had decided to flip over the coffee table which Hermione had been gladly thinking to do herself all this time.

But he beat her to that.

Stupid prick, Hermione fumed, won't even let me have my share of grief.

Another strong burn to her lips was enough to snap her out of the little fit she had internally thrown. Upon seeing Hermione shaking at her feet, Draco took the opportunity to throw a vase at her direction which missed her by a great deal, of course, given his current frantic state. The floral piece hit the stone wall, shattering into thousands of pieces, it sound alerting Hermione that she had just been attacked.

Well, at least had been tried to be attacked on.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME?!" Draco all hut yelled, if it weren't for the silencing charm Hermione placed in the dorm from time to time in case she had to argue with this prick, the whole school would've been at their door by now, demanding them to open the door so it could be cleared then and there that who killed who. Hermione cast a glance at his eyes, regretting the silver get to her, the erratic beating of her heart was practically forcing her to say ''fuck it" and smash her mouth against his but Hermione had self control, she reminded herself that Malfoy was unaware of the full after-effects of the Kiss Cam.

He didn't know that they'd need to kiss again, he didn't know that the burn won't go away until almost a month. Who knew, it could be more even. He didn't know that there was no counter spell for the formula Ginny Weasley had come up with, he was as clueless as she was in the beginning.

And for that, she didn't know if she should feel pity for him or actually guilty. Pity in the sense that he'd throw a fucking fit when she told him about the whole ordeal. Hermione reminded herself; if she decided to tell him.

However, given current circumstances, it was inevitable. Draco had to know, he just had to if Hermione wanted to get rid of this tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. If she wanted to put herself to peace. (to hell with his peace) All these little ifs and buts calculated in Hermione's mind like it was a complex Arithmancy equation, one so complex that when she thought that she had an answer, another difficult step followed; running in an endless cycle of tasks in her mind.

"Granger," she noticed he was on his knees now, palms flat on the cold surface, his head bowed, "What is happening to me? Why do I feel the urge to—" Draco stopped before he let it slip, cautious, just like he always was. "Why do I feel...this?" He chocked on his words, finally lifting his gray eyes to meet Hermione's warm browns, a contrast so livid, it made her shudder, the depth and the intensity a single glare of Draco Malfoy held, terrified her beyond measure.

Hermione fell to her knees herself. She didn't know where this sudden vulnerability was coming from but she sure as hell knew that this feeling was stronger than the pain she was enduring, the pain they were both enduring. A series of pants escaped her mouth along with a handful amount of curses but she couldn't give a fucking toss about it.

That's what pain did to you, it rendered you speechless and made you vulnerable; all whilst crumbling you on the inside.

It was odd, Hermione noted in that faint moment, how the tables had turned— while she was in no superior position herself, the fact that Draco Malfoy was on his knees, begging for an explanation and somewhat cure to his pathetic pain and agony only made Hermione realise that if there's a rise there's also a fall, what rises must go down as well, it was the inevitable law of nature, you just couldn't function otherwise. No matter how powerful he had been or his family had been, even they couldn't help him in that time, actually no one could; it was an eye opener, a vivid one.

"If I tell you," Hermione closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst, "You won't believe me. I'd rather not you call me a lying mudblood again." The insult rolled off her tongue like everyday words, she didn't even flinch when the word left her mouth.

Draco studied the witch in front of her for a moment, he took in her disheveled appearance— untamed curly hair sticking to her face because of sweat, chocolate eyes half closed and asthmatic breathing only to add the moon to the lonely night sky.

He didn't say anything, anything but, "Do you feel the same way right now?" it was a whisper, maybe even lower on the decibels scale than that.

But Hermione heard it, she heard it like a clean whisp of wind on a still winter night, like the rustling of leaves on an autumn day— loud and clear.

"Tell me Granger, this," he moved a pointed finger in the distance between the both of them, dragging it viciously slow from her to himself. "This, it's that camera's doing, isn't it? There is no other explanation as to why I feel the urge to, to—"

The air in his lungs had been knocked out completely when he said the next words.

"Kiss you."

Hermione was sure her mouth was drier than the Sahara right now, her throat did feel claustrophobic right now, after all. Draco, however, held a different experession— raw and extremely vivid, like you could narrate a whole story just by looking into his silver eyes.

That was the time when both of them had a simultaneous burst of pain and collapsed for the first time since the sensations had started. They both had reached their climax but neither one of them was going to back down. As both of them collapsed to the floor, their fingers touched, merely brushed even, just as they looked at their hands in union— her cold fingertips complimented his own frosty ones, it was like a missing puzzle piece.

Neither pulled away, but when Draco inched his fingers closer to her own, a teasing dance they performed as they made their way to her, from merely brushing to grasping them. Bile rose to Hermione's throat when she saw the anger in his eyes, she tried to pull her hand back but it was too late. Draco had attached himself to her like second skin.

In the blink of an eye, all still motion, Draco was on top of Hermione, careful not to touch his body with her own, as his palms flattened against the cold floor near a whimpering Hermione's head, his knees positioned him right in top of her, caging her in—quite like the last time they had encountered. Hermione dared not to speak, her Gryffindor courage had suddenly gone, replaced with utter fear.

Nobody spoke, nobody uttered a single bloody word.

They gazed into each other's eyes for almost a full minute or two, until...

Until,

Godforbid, Hermione couldn't even say it.

Until Draco dipped his head to bury his face in Hermione's untamed locks. She felt him close his eyes, with her body so still, it could be mistaken for a corpse. If it wasn't for her eyes fluttering close at the mere contact, anyone could presume her dead.

She didn't know what was happening— it all happened too fast, too fast for her to decipher anything. All she knew was that Draco fucking Malfoy had his nose pressed against her hair and that he wasn't moving, just breathing, calmly breathing. Hermione didn't even gulp when he let out an exasperated breath in her hair. She knew he'd regret it in the morning when he'll think this through but right now, there was nothing to be used as an escape route, escape from Draco, who, for some fucked up reason had found utter peace in smelling her hair.

It was tantalizingly, menacingly and wholly forbidden, so sinful, she knew. She knew, and she knew, but she couldn't push him back. It was like her feet and hands were tied together with an invisible rope, the rope of fear.

Or was it pleasure and lust?

In that very moment, she didn't know.

"It won't—" her lips quivered with the words she spoke. All of a sudden, the room felt like it was closing in on her yet, she forced tge words out of her dry mouth. "The burn, it won't— it wo—"

"Yes? What about it?" His voice was a low growl. Anyone could have mistaken it for an invitation of something else but Hermione Granger was no fool, she knew what that voice was.

It was authoritative.

It was a warning.

It was fueled by the hunger of her in his eyes.

"It won't go away until almost a month," Her voice cracked when she looked into his eyes, "You have to—" she choked, "You have to—"

"Speak, Granger, I can't take this anymore." Hermione watched how he closed his eyes tightly only to reopen them after a full minute.

Another wave must have hit him, Hermione thought to herself quietly.

Here goes to nothing.

She braces herself for it, with eyes wide and full and a heart of pure courage, she finally let out the hurtful truth of the whole ordeal to him, to the pale boy caging her like a wild animal.

"You have to keep on kissing me or it won't go away."

And then, there was silence. Only the howling of the wolves could be heard far off in the distance mixed with the heavy rain gracing the castle's rooftops, leaving a trail as it cascaded down the windows, like a beautiful pattern of a river.

The Gryffindor witch took the bold step of looking at Malfoy, this time, much closely— to check any signs of emotions or anything.

But there was none.

But reality, as God had made it, always came back to us, it had a sick way of kicking you in the shin from the front or biting you in the arse from behind— either way, escaping was inevitable. It was no surprise to Hermione then when Draco let out a barking laugh, so sadistic and vile; it made Hermione want to vomit her guts out.

With each bark of laughter, there came a twist to her wrist, twisting it to that point where Hermione had to scream and push the pick back, though it wasn't much, she manged to slightly move him, sprinting out of his grasp as she held her wrist in her good hand. "What the hell is wrong with yo—"

"No, no, no, what the fuck is wrong with you, Granger? Do you think I'll fall for this fucking ploy of yours? Do you really think I'm that stupid? That naive? That foolish ri actually believe this fucking bullshit you spew? I'm impressed," Draco circled her like a predator for meat, clapping his hands slowly, "Very impressive, I must say, you'll stoop this low to get to me, I would never have imagined th—"

"You can believe whatever the fuck you want to, you asshole!" Hermione finally lost it. Her voice was booming but she couldn't give two tosses about ripping her eardrums at the moment. "I'd never, ever, ever stoop as low as settling for someone like you." she spat with venom on her voice. "Who would? For a traitor like you? A pathetic excuse of a human being like yourself? For a coward like you? Who would, Malfoy? The thought actually scares me." she mocked with equal hatred laced to her voice. Draco merely raised an eyebrow at her, closing his eyes before reopening them, the thunder in them as clear as day.

"Watch your fucking mouth, Granger." Draco whispered agonizingly slow. He took a step in her direction and then another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

And another until he had her backed up to the wall, his face almost an inch apart from her.

"I see," Hermione smiled, "I've hit a nerve."

Draco didn't speak. There were few times when Draco Malfoy was speechless and this was one of it, in front of his worst enemy. When he was about to speak something vile again, she held up a hand, "I don't care what you believe, all I want to tell you is that I will call truce on this thing, I will kiss you if the circumstances demand because I want to get this over with, not because I want an idiot like you fantasizing about how I want something like this to happen."

Hermione was a true Gryffindor at that time, somehow, his anger had onky fueled her.

That was all she had ever wanted. A drop of courage in the ocean of cowardice to stand up.

"I will," she looked at him in the eyes, pushing him back swiftly, "Never talk about it, it's embarrassing, to me." with that, she had gone to her room, leaving a confused Draco behind, confused as to all she had said to him with a great deal of courage and bravery.

No wonder she was a Gryffindor.

"I can go without this, I don't need you, stupid Granger." he whispered to himself just as he turned on his heels to walk back to his own room, making sure to slam the door shut as loud as he could.

"What a fucking joke." was the last thing he muttered to himself before trying to seek the slumber that never came, only a burning sensation and thoughts of a curly brown haired girl did, however.

It had been a week.

A whole fucking week, thought Draco, the lain was unbearable. He had refused to get out of his room for any of his classes, knwoing damn well he'd regret it later.

He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't, he couldn't.

Screaming into pillows wasn't helping either.

It started to make sense to him, all of what Granger had said the other night, she wasn't lying.

Dear lord, she was not lying.

That was the moment, where Draco Malfoy decided to put his blood status and ego aside, just to get rid of the fucking burn that felt, by now, like pure fire dancing on his lips. He gathered every ounce of his courage before he walked into Granger's room, luckily or unluckily, finding her door ajar, he didn't bother the formalities of knocking and saying hello, nor did he initiate any other form of conversation when he saw her sitting on her bed reading that fucking book he had always watched her read about hogwarts.

Upon catching his disheveled state of messy blond hair, an undone Slytherin tie and lungs deprived of air, Hermione knew what this was all about, a small gasp left her mouth when he walked over to her and swallowed, "Absolutely no one can know abo—"

"No one will know, you have my word." She cut in quickly, her legs felt hot and exposed in the shorts she wore, sweating now. Her gaze traveled to his lips which seemed the most inviting thing in the world right now, to her at least.

"I can't take this anymore." Draco quivered with every word he spoke. Maybe this was a very bad idea, maybe he should just run back to his room and lock himself up, maybe he should look for a counter spell, there must be something, yes, he should.

"I can't either." Hermione's hands were sweating now. She realised that this will be the first (probably not the last time though) that she was going to kiss Draco Malfoy with her will.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

"I still hate you, Granger." He had whispered one last time before pulling her close by the thin blue long sleeved shirt she wore, teeth hit teeth, tongue grazed tongue, one soul melted into another, blissfully catastrophic it was indeed. Hermione couldn't help but tangle her fingers in his hair (which oddly enough, he didn't protest against)

Both of them could feel the burn subsidize and honestly, it was nothing short of heaven itself.

Gasping for oxygen, both pulled apart, Hermione pushed him back whilst Draco did the same simultaneously.

"I still hate you too, Malfoy. Nothing's changed."

Okay I am screaming?

PLEASE Leave a review it's 5.14 in the morning here now and this is soooooo long (3200 plus words omg wtf)

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I REALLY WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS OMG, bye I need sleep. xx

P. S this isn't proofread cos I need to sleep.


	7. 07 Forbidden

Torturous, angsty and agonizingly painful — those were the words that Draco would use to describe the feeling he was experiencing at the moment. It was like wanting to smash your head in the wall and hoping that the glass mirror hanging on it would leave its remains of shredded glass in your head, a bit too extreme however, still the way the Malfoy heir felt. It had been already embarrassing enough that he had kissed Granger— fucking went over to her room and begged like a madman to her so nobody would know. When he repeated the event of that night in his head, all he wanted to do was cut open his wrist and wait till he bled to death but this was Draco Malfoy, he was smarter than considering suicide or self-hurt. He was cunning and clever, he knew that self control was the only thread of hope that would keep him and his mind in one piece.

Hence, for better or for worse, it was necessary to hold onto that thin thread of self control, and so he did; clinging onto it like his dear life depended on it.

Knowing that self control was probably one of his best techniques to master, Draco took his time to divert his mind elsewhere. Elsewhere from that mind-plaguing kiss and from the Gryffindor witch sitting in her room opposite to his.

Just the mere presence of her made him want to drag his nails against the stone walls, and this time, it wasn't just her presence that made him like this, it was the rawness he felt after he had pushed her back the other day, from the kiss.

Draco shook his head clear, he needed to think of more important things (like that kiss was important at all), for example — what would happen if someone found out about it? He knew he was being too paranoid but what if someone had? What if someone had seen them from the bloody windows? Or maybe someone had their ear pressed against her door when he had ranted his pathetic emotions? What if Granger herself told anyone? She did, after all, hate him with a burning spite. It would make perfect sense if she told saint Potter, She-Weasel and her brother.

The more he thought about it, the more his brain itched.

She would tell Potter the Weasel, then they'll taunt you for the rest of your life, make your life miserable like you made their lives hell all those years ago.

He felt like screaming, pulling at the roots of his hair, smashing his head in a wall because that's how stupid he had been, he should've known that kissing Granger was not the solution to putting an end to the fucking burn he experienced, there must've been something else to be discovered had he not been fooled.

But now it was too late, the damage had been done, she had left a mark on not only his mouth but also his soul.

And to think that it was Hermione Granger was fucking ridiculous, draco added.

He let his gray eyes wander to the room he had thrashed when he had kissed her, now it was squeaky clean after he had managed to clean it up with a flick of his wand only to rethrash it, if that was even a word to him. The room showcased the Slytherin prince in all his green and silver glory, from a four poster wooden bed to green bedding and pillow covers and to the one window in his room, it all screamed perfection, neatness, precision and finesse.

But it was anything but that in his heart.

Truth was, everybody had failed to understand him, from his own parents to his so called friends, everyone. And it was this state of being misunderstood on everything that made him this way, he knew he had everything, could have anything in the snap of the fingers, but what he didn't know was whether he'll have those people who would share his happiness when he had everything in his world, people to cherish his happiness with.

"You're pathetic." he whispered, speaking after three days felt like a bliss as well as a misery. He didn't want to speak, but it felt like it was necessary to scold himself, remind himself how pathetic he actually was.

"You're so fucking pathetic." this time, he let the tears accumulated in his eyes fall. It was too much, his parents, his friends, his deatheater past, his prejudices and now, Hermione Granger.

His shoulders shook softly as he remished the last of his pride, thinking how everything did, after all, come back to you one way or another. Draco felt so much, yet he spoke not even a fraction of that. His lips burned against with a sharp sear, more frantic than he had experienced before. It wasn't the right time, it wasn't, he knew but he didn't know what was happening — maybe it was the state of vulnerability or the static storm in his head and his heart that made his feet automatically take him outside.

He was walking towards her door and he felt nothing, nothing about blood purity or any of the bullshit his parents had fed him, and he wondered for a faint moment, if that one kiss had made him a fool?

It was useless to fight the burn, that much he had learned when he had tried to fight it off and failed badly. The ache in his body was growing second by second and the moment, and there was only one cure for it: Granger.

His body felt hot as he pushed open his door and let his house robe fall over in the ground, now, clad only in his black school trousers and white shirt, his green tie dangling off his neck like a loose animal's leash— his cheeks sticky with salty tears and hair a fierce mess due to all the times he had run his hand through it in anxiety of the possibility of Granger telling off him.

The air was getting suffocating, or was it just him? He didn't know.

The moment he opened her door with a loud bang like an animal, his silver eyes fell on her— there she was in the middle of the room in her short school shirt and dare he say it...?

Her plain white bra?

She was brushing her thick hair with a hair brush, but as soon as she saw him, the brush dropped from her hands and her warm brown eyes widened, as if the reality of the situation had dawned upon her, hitting like a sledgehammer on her petite skull; Hermione stole a glance at Draco, completely paralyzed, the boy continued to eye her like meat and that's when she realised her attire.

In one swift motion, she had a bedsheets pressed to her chest which she snatched from the bed and then, she was confused, she still wasn't yelling, Draco noted and it was odd, very odd.

By now, he had expected her to throw multiple hexes at him till he flew out of Hogwarts but she was just... there, standing like she had seen a lost child in a funfair. In a parallel universe, Hermione Granger took in his pathetic appearance, for a fact, she knew that Draco Malfoy never cried, yet, here he was— in all his glory, vulnerable and raw, for her eyes only.

Nothing was said yet, all was, on the simple gestures of their eyes.

Hermione's breathing became even more erratic when he took a menacingly slow step forward, her eyes never left his when he reached her, the proximity between them lessened and lessened with every step he took towards her. The lust in his eye was not to be mistaken for likeness, Hermione reminded herself. She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down but it wasn't helping, it wasn't helping at all.

It wasn't helping that his body was pressing up against her own, it wasn't helping that his lips were swollen a deep red shade, it wasn't helping that be looked at her as if he was going to take her then and there, it wasn't helping that he was inching closer and closer to her, it wasn't helping that he had cupped her face in his cold hands.

"Why are you crying,?" Hermione dared to ask, closimg her eyes and saying, "Draco."her eyes not leaving his. It was no secret why he came here to do, she shouldn't have bothered with asking him how he was but being the good person she was, she did it anyway, with not hope of answer anyway.

Draco didn't say anything, all he did was let another tear slide down his cheek before wiping it off just as quick as it had happened, the other hand remained on her soft cheek.

"I hate my life, Granger. I am fucking pathetic." he didn't know why was he saying this suddenly, the vulnerability was as real as it got, if was terrifying to know what emotions could do to you, they could break you in half whenever they wanted an you could do nothing about it.

Hermione couldn't argue with him. She felt her eyes soften at his disheveled state and the vulnerability in his eyes. They both knew he'd regret it in the morning; opening up, even one sentence to someone like Granger, but all regrets had been thrown out the window the moment he had kissed her first, weren't they? She couldn't tell him he was right, that she thought he was pathetic— pathetic because of the way he had treated her and everyone else in their younger years, pathetic because he had been forced to choose the darkness rather than the light.

But no human was pathetic, even if it was Draco Malfoy, thought Hermione.

So she gathered every ounce of her courage and cupped his face with one hand, using her other hand to cluth the sheet she held tighter to her chest, completely surprising Draco who inhaled a sharp breath then and there. "Just..."

She started before letting the silence consume them again, "Just kiss me." She hadn't felt the burn yet, nevertheless, deciding to lower herself just for today. She liked to think that if she was in his position, she would have done the same— she'd have walked into his room and kissed him senseless, it was just that crazy.

"I hope you'll feel better afterwards."

Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't get a decent breath. His head that just seconds before had been full of unasked-for thoughts was now buzzing with anticipation. She felt his breath on her cheeks. He watched her eyelids flutter, then close. Then their lips met.

And it was madness.

Draco tilted his head to capture her lips, he deepened the kiss only slightly stopping when Hermione's sheet fell off because she had her fingers knotted in his hair. It was then that Hermione jerled him closer, diverting him out of his little shock and urging him to kiss her. Draco glided his lips over her jaw and then, down her throat, pressing feather light kisses to her skin which made Hermione close her eyes. There wasn't a care in the world to her, not the sheet on the ground, not the frenzy in her veins, nothing. The only thing that occupied her mind was the pale boy in front of her.

Draco sucked her bottom lip, making her let out a moan of pleasure, her eyes fluttered close at the contact and she wondered when was the last time she had been kissed like this, like she was someone's reason for sanity and peace.

Hermione let out a whimper when he bit her earlobe, the soft sounds she made sent shivers south of his body, making electricity ooze out of his brain, chaotic.

She pulled away, much to his dismay, putting her sweaty forehead against his own one. Breaths mingled and unheard cries were heard. Draco bent forward and kissed her one last time on the lips softly, a gesture so small get so loud. "I—"

"You don't have to say anything," she sniffled, "It's okay. You can go." With a final look in her eye, Draco took the bold step to glide his sweaty palms down the straps of her bra, making her skin tingle.

It was as quick as it had come, and then, she was cold once again, his hands had left her body.

"Cover yourself up Granger, we don't want anyone else seeing you that way." he had told her before he was out the door, leaving behind a tomato red Hermione.

~~~~~

**_Hello, fellow shippers! Can we get 40 votes for the next chapter? I promise that'll be sooner! And if you think this is moving too fast, just wait for the next chapter :) you'll understand. Love you all, please leave an honest review and share it with your fellow shippers!_**

**_BTW, this isn't proof read at all, I'll do that tomorrow lol. xoxo_**


	8. 08 Skyfall

**"It was summer when I saw your face, looked like a teenage runaway."**

**—Rollercoaster by Bleachers**

"Hermione, would you please stop ignoring me now?"

Now? What do you mean now, it's only been two weeks, Hermione wondered.

Ginny Weasley looked like she was ready to burst into tears any moment now. The witch had been ignoring the redhead ever since the whole kiss cam fiasco. She knew it was pointless to do so, yet, she had no better option to express her anger. Hermione knew what had been her intentions yet, she couldn't find herself to move over this fully just now. The kiss cam had brought practical death on her shoulders, okay, maybe that was a little bit exaggerated but you got the idea of it.

Not only did she had to kiss none other than the pure blood prick, Draco Malfoy himself, but had to put up with his horrendous attitude that seemed to put the stupid banshee woman to shame.

Dare she mention she had to kiss him again and again to fight off a stupid burn?

How fucking bizzare.

The younger Gryffindor trailed behind her only to stop when Hermione flipped around, coming directly face to face with her. She clutched her books tighter to her chest keeping her face void of any emotion, she was still angry at her, after all. "What do you want Ginny? I'm quite in a bit of a hurry."

Ginny opened her mouth only to close it again. She could not believe she was this mad, even after two weeks. She fumbled with the book in her hands, running her fingers along the spine up and down in a repeated motion, truth was; she didn't want anything, just that the witch in front of her forgave her. "Oh- I well, I was hoping you could forgive me and then we can be like before." she said so quickly that if it weren't for Hermione standing so close to her, she'd have missed it completely.

The girl seemed flustered, Ginny. Her hair was messy and her eyes had dark circles under them, clearly defining her lack of sleep. For a moment, Hermione felt pity for her. Maybe she was being too hard on her, after all. Ginny, obviously, never wanted Hermione to be in a position like she was in currently, that much she could swear over anything. The girl's intentions hadn't been bad, only she hadn't thought of the complete consequences that would follow if something went wrong- another reason Hermione liked to plan out everything in full before heading into something.

A sigh escaped her lips. For a brief moment, her eyes closed and she rubbed her aching temples- maybe because of Ginny or maybe it was Malfoy, she wasn't sure which one it was. "I forgive you Ginny." Her eyes drifted to smiling girl in front of her. "It wasn't... It wasn't your fault, I-" she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, feeling her knots tighten with every graze of her finger on her skin.

"It's alright." The finality in her voice made Ginny jump, she crushed Hermione in a bear hug and after a few stumbles, Hermione smiled to herself, patting her friend's head in affection. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, 'Mione!" Ginny rushed, tightening her hold on Hermione which made her laugh after so long.

"So now that you've forgiven me, can we talk about how good of a kisser Malfoy is?" Ginny wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner which made Hermione widen her eyes.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Hermione smacked her book at Ginny, completely missing her target as she moved further.

Quidditch instincts.

"So he is that good?" Ginny smirked, knowing she already had her answer.

Hermione never answered her, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away.

It was true.

Draco Malfoy was a damn good kisser, so good that the word "good" was an understatement.

And that scared Hermione to her core.

~~~~~

Hermione felt the knots in her back tighten with every step she took towards her dorm. A long day of writing potions essays and solving arithmancy equations had drained Hermione of all earlier enthusiasm she had when she last saw Ginny. Her hands hung limp beside her, the only thing that securely carried all her books and thing was the bag slung across her body in a half cross.

She was sure her hair had decided to look horrible too.

The moment she set her foot inside the small cozy place, her nose picked up the smell of tea. Almost instantly, she was padding over to the little place they had reserved for a kitchen. You couldn't actually cook anything there— it was merely a place with a few cups and glasses in addition to the empty cabinets that had been placed there. Hermione never understood why would they have empty cabinets in a kitchen, Draco, however, had argued why did they even have cabinets in the first place.

Hermione had told herself that his option was probably more relevant, of course, she just hadn't said it in front of him.

The scene that awaited her made her eyes go wide— Draco Malfoy stood in his school shirt and black trousers, the same slytherin green tie dangling off his neck. He was reading a book held in his right hand, very attentively, dare she add but his left hand was empty— which confused her. The witch knitted her eyebrows together as she watched the boy, more man, still reading his book without even blinking.

He doesn't even have a wand, then how is he doing it? Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

And then, it clicked.

"You know how to do wandless magic?" Her voice was bearly audible, her own shock was evident. Draco didn't even hear her, so this time, she mirrored her shock and spoke in a louder manner.

Which wasn't actually a very good idea because Draco snapped out of his book, his ears alerting at the sound of her voice, the stupid tea spilling over his hand as he knocked the cup off its pitcher with his elbow when he turned to the Gryffindor girl. Some of the tea even spilled on his book.

It was a disaster, really.

Hermione almost had a cardiac arrest, keyword: almost. Her hand flew to her chest just when she collected the courage to look at him. Gray met brown and instantly, there was tension. She waited for the usual slur of insults but it never came, it never did. Instead, Draco rubbed his temples and let out a throaty sigh. Hermione's eyes went over to his hand and she took in the horrible burn it had, an odd shade of red had made it's presence known on his icy skin by now.

Her hands fled to her mouth, she wondered why hadn't he spoken anything, no insults, no curses, hell, not even sending her crashing in a bloody window. Before Hermione knew what she was doing, she was already at his side, much closer than anyone would like for their taste. Her hand flew out to take his burning one, just as she whipped out her wand.

She was about to cast a healing spell when he pulled out his hand from her grasp, all so suddenly, it felt cold again to her.

"I'm fine." he spoke clearly, staring right into her eyes. He didn't say anything more as he picked up his book and walked off into his room without as much as sparing a second glance in her direction.

Hermione's heart ached for the hurt she had caused him, Malfoy or not, she had principles— and that included to not hurt anybody, even if that was a complete accident.

She knew she shouldn't have distracted him mid-process, it was bound to end up in a disaster anyway, no matter even if it was a small one.

What she didn't know what that Draco Malfoy was sitting with his back pressed to the door, his mind full of thoughts about a particular Gryffindor girl.

And, he hadn't even felt the searing burn yet.

~~~~~~

It had been all day and Draco still hadn't come out of his room, it was painful— not only the stupid burn that came along but also the mistake she had made earlier in the day, knowing that she had been the one to inflict pain on someone, even if that was by accident.

It was painful to know that he probably couldn't heal himself properly. She knew healing wasn't his cup of tea.

Being an ex-deatheaters meant you were made to harm, not to heal.

When her burn climaxed, she decided that's she couldn't take it anymore. Clad in her black t-shirt and blue jeans, Hermione walked over to the other room, she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't nervous, or worse, frightened.

A sharp pain shot through her body. Hermione didn't have a clue what it was, this was the first time it had happened. Ginny never mentioned this— the tingle on her lips intensified and she made a mental note then and there to ask the gingerhead in the morning.

Hermione was surprised to see his door ajar. Surprised, she tiptoed her way closer, completely surprised at what what she saw.

Draco was working on something, with further ponder, Hermione realised he was scribbling away on a parchment, a thick book sitting beside his right hand from which he scribbled, but that wasn't the shocking thing, the shocking thing was seeing his left hand wrapped up in a flimsy bandage lying flat on the bed. She saw that it was turning hard for him to do everything with one hand, he struggled to turn the page and then struggle even more when tried to dip the quill in the inkpot, splatering it all over the yellow parchment.

It was then, that she decided to let herself in. Draco's silver eyes instantly traveled to her, he took on her appearance and her presence in his room, it felt suffocating already.

Hermione's eyes went to his face, his eyes were clearly drained of the usual silver they held, they looked dull and tired, what confirmed her thoughts was the presence of dark circles under his eyes. His hair was disheveled and it looked like he hadn't gotten a decent amount of sleep in the last couple of days or so.

"What the fuck are you doing here Granger?" Hermione flinched at his words and realised something then and there - he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Dear Lord.

Hermione saw how he turned his pale back to her and rummaged around the room for something that Hermione didn't quite know. He was pulling at the drawers, opening the closet and looking over the bed for something—

"Oh," Hermione almost felt guilty again. Draco held a green shirt in his hand which he was already putting on.

More like, trying to put on.

"Why the fuck are you here? What do you want?" he barked at her, it amosot sounded like a whine because clearly, his arms were getting tired of struggling agsisnt a stupid shirt.

Hermione would probably regret this, surely will, she corrected herself.

Her feet took her to where he was standing and she held up her small hands in front of him, as if asking his permission to let her, let her. Her palms were mid air, right in front of his chest as she took a daring step closer to him.

Draco stood absolutely still, not even comprehending what was happening. His eyes were fixated on the witch before him, the same witch who had plagued his brain for quite sometime now, the witch who he had horrible fantasies about, fantasies he wish he never had, didn't have.

Hermione's hands were only millimeters away when he used his right hand to push her away, completely making her lose her balance and fall back on the bed. With a soft thud, she fell, making the bed vibrating slightly. "I can't do this Granger, get out of my room, get out of here, or I swear I'm going to do something we both will regret. Get out!" he yelled in her face, his voice was sharp and it made Hermione's heart ache. She focused on the rawness in his voice and the helplessness in his eyes.

She could only wonder what his heart was like right now.

When Hermione didn't move, he was already walking towards her, she saw him control a scream as he pushed the shirt on his body.

Draco held her by the elbow and pulled her to her feet, practically dragging her out of the room. He wasn't even looking at her, "Draco," she spasmed, "You're- you're hurting me! Let- let go!" tears gathered in her eyes but Draco wasn't looking.

He knew that if he made the unforgivable mistake of doing so, he won't be able to resist her, won't be able to not touch her, won't be able to control the demons inside him, won't be able to control doing something he'd regret the next day.

"GET OUT! STOP MESSING WITH MY FUCKING HEAD!" He yelled at her just when she practically pushed her out the door, but he didn't close it yet, oh no, not yet, he wasn't done yet.

"I HATE YOU, YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME AND THAT NIGHT," Hermione knew damn well what he was referring to, "WAS A MISTAKE, OPENING UP TO YOU WAS A MISTAKE, JUST—" he saw the hurt flash in her eyes and instantly knew that he had stepped too far.

But to hell with it, right?

"Just go away Granger, just fucking go away," but his hoarse voice pleaded her to stay, to hold him close and tell him that he was going to be okay, that he was only human and that she was there for him, that at least somebody was there for him.

"Draco—" Hermione sucked in a sharp breath as she massaged her skin where he had held her tight. Draco's eyes shifted to her skin and he instantly regretted his actions, but what could he have done? If he didn't get her out of his room fast enough, he wouldn't live to see the light of the next day alone.

"Just go away, I mean it, your bloody game is over." he looked at her direct in the eye and slammed the door shut, but Hermione wasn't done with him. He thought that he could barge in her life and leave her be, well, he was mistaken. Hermione was already up on her feet, pouring at the door, "Stop pushing me away then, you moron!" she screamed, hitting the door till her fists hurt. Tears streamed down her face and she realised her throat was sore from all the screaming. "I just want to help you-" the words died in her throat as she sloushed herself down against the door, helpless and powerless, her shoulders shook softly as she wiped the teary mess on her cheeks, "I just want you to- to know that- I don't mean any harm," she whispered, putting her foreahed next to the wood.

On the opposite end of the thin wall of wood separating them, Draco sat on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest, an odd frenzy in his veins and a new kind of ache in his heart. He had heard everything she had said, even if she had whispered it to herself, he had heard it.

Truth was, all in all, Draco wanted to purposely push her away, out of his mind and our his life because that one night had been enough of a reminder of how fucked up he was now, so fucked up that he craved the touch and mere presence of her, like his throat would seal shut if he didn't get to her, if he didn't touch her. Yes he had regretted opening up to her that day, telling her that he was fucking pathetic? What was he even thinking? It had made him cringe in the morning, he had screamed, thanks to the muffliato, nobody had heard his pitiful cries.

And now, when she stood before him, in all her beautiful glory, inching closer and closer to the monster he had become, the monster his awful parents and Voldemort had forced him to become? Couldn't she see his difficult it was for him to seek the light again?

"Open the door, Draco-" Hermione's soft sobs brought him out of his bubble of darkness, he realized that she was still outside his door.

But why?

"Just- let me in- I want to help," he heard her bearly mumble, it was like the wind, if mistaken.

All he wanted to do was scream at her to fuck off with her Gryffindor courage and charisma. He wanted to bloody scream in her face to stop being so naive and get a fucking grip on herself. He wanted to yell at her for being in his dreams, his fantasies, his nightmares— everywhere.

She was everywhere and it made his skin crawl.

But his heart clouded his brain this time again, instead of screaming at her, he opened the door, causing Granger to fall ahead a bit, it was a momentary lapse before she caught herself. Silver met brown and he had cupped her face in his hands and pressed his cold lips to her own before she could register to anything, before he could regret, before they would both fall apart.

He bent back her head across his arm and kissed her, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing in a dizzy swaying world. His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling.

And before a swimming giddiness spun her round and round, she knew that she was kissing him back.

Ecstasy, Draco thought.

And then, they were separated, forehead against forehead, pureblood with a mudblood, it didn't matter, it had never mattered. They both tried to catch their breaths without breaking their little stare of the aftermath.

And then she spoke.

"Would you let me heal your hand?" her hand was on his cheek, Draco closed his eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them. He let his good finger glide all the way up to her face, from her shoulder to her neck to the corner of her mouth. Nothing was said. Hermione lsed her eyes too, only briefly and softly clasped his good hand in her own, "Please." she spoke timidly, her warm eyes mocking him to say yes already.

When he didn't say anything, Hermione took the liberty to leave his side for a moment and go get her wand. Limply, she walked back to him, as she sat on the floor next to him and closed her fingers around her wand, she felt him draw absent patterns on her forearm, it felt like a daze and a misery at the same time because they were both doomed for nothingness, it was just that real. She took a moment to see his fingers carress the skin he had held tightly just minutes before. Hermione let out a sharp breath when his finger dipped in the crook of her elbow, tracing soothing patterns on it.

"Only if you heal yourself first."

It was like the wind, gone as quickly as it had come, a bearly there voice. But she had heard it, loud and clear like the howling of the wolves on the night of the full moon, not to be mistaken with the bark of the dogs.

Her breath was caught in her throat. Slowly, he saw her lift her wand and then murmur a spell he didn't quite catch, healing the slightly purple skin on her arm. Hermione let Draco admire it for a moment, giving him the chance to be satisfied. Only then, she began unwrapping his flimsy bandage, seeing how he flinched with every unfold. Still, she tried to be her best and it all very slowly. His pale hand was a dark shade of pink and red, a mix of the both.

"Episkey." she muttered and moments later it was as good as before, he flexed his fingers, admiring the power he was deprived off for hours. His eyes then went to Granger, he wouldn't say thanks to her, of course, she never expected him to, she it was no surprise when he didn't.

"Did you also feel the burn when you—" Granger spoke almost shyly, her big brown eyes bore into his. He didn't want to lie to her, it occurred to him that she was feeling the burn and that's why she came to him, made perfect sense to him.

And so he did was he was best at, he lied.

"Yeah."

But it was a big fat lie, because he hadn't even remotely felt the burn.

Maybe he just wanted to kiss her without a reason.

/

**Hi, I'm back, quite quick, eh? This is literally 3500 plus words long so don't you dare say it's short. I need to work on after you next so don't expect an update anytime soon! This will be proofread in the morning, right now, I just want to sleep.**

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	9. 09 Skin

"You have been missing your classes, Mr. Malfoy." The old witch in front of Draco regarded him with clear disinterest, her long fingers positioning her glasses properly on the bridge of her nose, "Any excuse for that or shall I just so blatantly deduct a handful amounts from Slytherin?" Draco rolled his eyes, well, in his mind to not anger the old woman any further.

"I was not feeling well,Professor." He stretched the word. Come to think of it, it wasn't actually a lie— heindeedhad been feeling like utter shit since that godforsaken game he had been told to monitor with Granger. Not only was his fucking head spinning like it had been hammered, but his entire body felt like it was on fire; his skin aching all the time for Merlin knew what reason.

And let us not forget about that searing burn that visited him ever so often like a fast friend.

"Really?" McGonagall eyed him with suspicion, her tone laced with something Draco couldn't quite put a finger on— it wasn't concern, Draco noted, the old hag could never possibly feel something like that for him. But then, it clicked to him, it was distrust; of course she didn't trust the ex-deatheater. McGonagall regarded him a minute or two, Draco could feel himself getting uncomfortable with every passing minute the more she stared at his figure.

She wasn't buying it, he realized, not even when Draco nodded his head slowly to confirm his earlier words. Feeling the need to say something to save his sorry arse, Draco sighed, "It's true Professor," He started his placid lie, "Ever since that whole ordeal with—" He abruptly stopped and gathered himself, "With Miss Granger, I haven't been able to leave the dorm very much. I have indeed been missing classes because I had a talk with my parents after that kiss cam fiasco and they told me to stay out of sight until the talk died down, they can't have people talking bad about us, losers after the war or not, we are still purebloods and my father regards that with high respect. All this just exhausted me, that's why I was unable to attend classes. I should not have to explain this all about blood purity to you, Professor." It came so easily that even Draco himself was surprised. Lying had always been his forte, his piece of cake and cup of tea and he never missed an opportunity to show just that.

When McGonagall's mouth formed a perfect 'o', he knew he had her. He smirked to himself. "I didn't know the Malfoys still treated blood purity as an important thing." She shook her head a little. The argument seemed sensible enough to McGonagall, thought Draco, because in a minute she was nodding at him, giving him that pitiful look he had always hated. "One would think the war would have changed the Malfoy family's prejudices, oh how wrong one might be." Draco didn't speak a word. It was far from anything like he had spoken— truth was, the Malfoy family was treated like dirt and it was nothing that could be done to even hold their worthless opinions.

"I will not deduct any points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, given your hearty explanation." Draco almost rolled his eyes, to hell with the house that had given him fake friends, he couldn't give less of a fuck. It was his reputation that had mattered him the most, like it always had. Draco was ready to walk out of the old cow's office but her stern voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"However you have missed a significant amount of schoolwork, almost half a month of classes."More like half a month of Granger and her addicting kisses,Draco almost corrected the woman but then decided against it; after all, he had been the one to propose that whatever happened between them stayed between the four walls of the head dorm they shared, absolutely no one else could know about it. "What I am trying to say is that, since you have missed so much work with the midterms approaching in due time, I'll have to pair you up with a fellow student to teach you all the things you have missed, which, may I add, are quite a few." Draco could swear McGonagall passed him a sadistic smile, he didn't like how this conversation was going. "I am afraid I would have to pair you with Miss Granger so th—" but he was not listening to her anymore, he watched her mouth open and close, speaking sharply but he just couldn't bring himself to hear any of the stuff she was saying.

"Why Granger?" Draco suddenly snapped, bloody hell he was fuming. "I will be fine perfectly by my own, Professor, I don't need her or anyone else to make me learn a few things I've missed for half a month." He hissed in her direction.

"I was at the top of my class!" Draco sneered at her. It was only when he saw her opening her wrinkly mouth that he held up a hand, "Fine! After Granger!"

"Precisely another reason for her to be your mentor in this difficult time, apart from the fact that it would be very convenient for her and for you seeing that you both share the head dorm." McGonagall twirled a quill in between her fingers, if one didn't know her well, it would seem like she was thoroughly enjoying herself, given the huge grin her her face.

"Look—" Draco sighed. He tried to count to ten his his head but suddenly stopped, even his mind played images of Granger. "We don't get along well, please try to understand." Draco was hopeless by now, he hoped that something of all the shit he'd say would make McGonagall change her mind, even though he knew it was as difficult as topping Granger in knowledge— point is, very hard.

"Well then you can take this time to change that, hmm?" McGonagall watched the pale boy with clear amusement, she didn't know what was so bloody irritating him to the extend of not seeking help from one of the brightest students, correction, the brightest student of the school. Draco did not say a word after that, he let his gaze fall to the floor, his mind already conjuring up several things that could go wrong with the whole tutoring thing.

For starters; he would want to kiss her senseless, bloody well snog her over the coffee table where their books would be.

_Books had to be thrown off to make room for Granger on the table,_ mused Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy? I hope you're listening to me," when Draco passes on a slight nod, she took the que to continue, "You are one the most intelligent students Hogwarts has to offer, Mr. Malfoy, I will not risk your education for some some silly fight with a girl as bright as yourself. You've lost much already after the war, this would be another loss for you if you don't do well on your exams later on. The prior reason we had you invited back to Hogwarts for your eighth year was you being one of our brightest students that the school had produced, maybe even why you were given the head boy position despite your...past." she looked at him with sorrowful eyes, it was hard enough for her too, knowing that one of your most intelligent student had gone astray and followed down the path of evilness.

This was his chance to redeem himself, Draco simply had no other choice but to accept what the headmistress gave him.

"Do I make myself clear?" When draco nodded, McGonagall smiled brightly, pleased with herself, "You do not need to worry about Miss Granger, I will talk to her on my own. All you need to do is co-operate with her and of course," she smiled at the blond boy, "Attend classes from Monday, you have a weekend to catch up on as much as you can."

By the time Draco left her office for good, he was already drained. Just thinking of sitting close to Granger and breathing in her smell sent his mind to overdrive, Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

\--

"FUCK YOU, FLITWICK! WHAT IS THIS HORSESHITE?!" Was the first _charming_ thing Hermione heard when she stepped out of her room on Saturday. It was almost three in the noon. She knew this was the day she began tutoring Malfoy and she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't batshit scared to her core. For almost two hours now, she had been trying to think of how to handle Malfoy when she looked at him because after that specific day, though they had been kissing on and off, nothing too passionate and lustfull like all the kisses they had shared before, they still hadn't uttered a single word to each other.

He'd come to her door at oddest of times; sometimes at four in the morning, sometimes at midnight, even surprising her one day and knocking on her door at precisely seven in the morning. He never came inside though. Hermione would comply, giving his cold lips a gentle graze before pulling away, she didn't touch him nor did he touch her, it was therapeutic, for both of them,and probably for the best if they didn't involve more skin than needed.

It wasn't like Hermione resisted the urge to kiss him, she only had one chance to walk upto his room and kiss him in the daylight one day— the rest of the times she felt the burn, he actually came on his own, like he could read her mind, knowing when she'd feel the seat and he'd come slowly from hallway, pressing his lips to her own, it was safe to say, both of them had grown _accustomed_ to this temporary arrangement that would ultimately benefit the both of them equally.

"MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS, SLUGHORN!" Hermione couldn't help but giggle at his words, she watched him secretly from as far as she could, he was clad in black trousers and a green full sleeved shirt that was folded upto his elbows, giving Hermione a clear view of his strong forearms. She watched him mutter cusses after cusses as he continued to run his thin long fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths— the pressure was definitely taking its toll on Draco, Hermione concluded.

Several broken quills laid next to Draco, Hermione noted as she ventured closer to his form sitting on the floor, elbows on the coffee table he had flipped over a good week or two ago. Hermione looked down at herself in a knee-length baby pink skirt and a blue half sleeve shirt, her hair was down on her shoulders, cascading down her back in untamed wavy curls. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to Draco who seemed to be fully engrossed in his work, several books and notes scattered across him, clearly not the way Hermione would work, she noted dully.

When she was within a few meters of him, she cleared her throat, hoping that he'd not be a sodding prick about it, she actually hoped that she could teach him all the stuff he had missed, for the sole reason to study the whole thing again for herself.

_But she also knew it was partly because she didn't want to see Draco failing in the midterms too._

The first time she cleared her throat, Draco paid her no mind, still swarmed with the notes he was reading earlier, but the second time she did, his eyes immediately snapped over to her, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

He didn't think she'd actually come, let one agree to teaching his sorry arse. He had secretly hoped that Granger would have refused to do such a thing, but here she was, meaning that she actually wanted to be here.

**_Holy fuck, she wasn't forced into this. _**

Hermione bit her lip, struggling to come up with a decent converstion starter with the Malfoy heir. They had been snog buddies for half a month now, like the name suggested— all they did was snog, no strings attached.

So you could see why this was becoming difficult with every passing moment for the both of them. Draco's eyes suddenly fell on the girl before him, her bottom lip in between her teeth, he didn't know what he was doing next— standing over, nearly toppling over the inkpot on the table and marching off on her direction. Hermione held up a finger, "So we can start fro—"

The last thing she saw before closing her eyes in ecstacy was Draco making a dismissive hand gesture (most probably to whatever she was about to say) and then, she was being scooped into strong arms, holding her in place while his mouth did wonders to her. Her joke felt her toes curl beneath her as Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulders, as if he was afraid she won't be able to handle the impact if their kiss. Her eyes rolled at the back of her skull, Hermione couldn't help but note how this particular kiss was so much more different than the previous smooches they had shared. It was catastrophic and bloody beautiful. Before Hermione could knot her fingers in his slimy hair, he had already pulled away from her lips, he held his forehead next to her own, both of the catching their breaths whilst looking at each other's lips. Hermione's arms folded around his neck and Draco placed his own on her small waist, noticing how fragile and small she actually looked in his arms.

Draco couldn't help but notice Hermione's gaze lurking on his pale lips, which, thanks to her, had gained a vivid shade of pink and red, so he leaned forward again and captured her lips in a sweet yet passionate kiss, Hermione immediately responded, cupping his face and pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Alright Granger, I'm sure we will be kissing plenty of times during a simple essay on fucking potions so no need to get your knickers in a twist already." Hermione blushed at his crude language, a deep crimson taking over her cheeks. Just when they both pulled away, he grabbed her hand, dragging her along to the floor where he was previously sitting.

Neither of them talked about if they had felt the burn or not, and it was probably better that way— considering none of them would have an explanation to kiss the other person without having felt the burning sensation yet.

Almost as if Draco could feel Hermione tensing up next to him, he looked at her expectantly, with an eye roll he regarded the distance between them, "Granger," he said in a flat tone.

"Yeah?" Hermione responded almost robotically, avoiding his perching gaze.

"Scoot over, I don't bite." he laughed at his own silly joke, "At least not when I'm with you."

Hermione blushed harder at his words, she didn't know why she was acting like a hormonal teenage girl, one could say Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger were practically sister when it came to hormones. Normally, she had been very good with her hormone control agenda, now, it was proving difficult —however, she could confirm that the reason was the pale boy sitting across from her.

"I think we should put a suitable distance between us Malfoy," Hermione forced her words, heck, she couldn't even see the text on the books from where she was sitting.

Hermione heard Draco scoff. "Granger, a fucking troll could fit in this space you've put between us." she heard Draco shuffling around and then her eyes snapped at him. Ever so quickly, he walked over to her, crouched down to meet her at eye level and grabbed her chin— he forced her warm eyes to gaze into his ice cold ones. "Fine," he breathed, "If you're not going to move your pretty little arse over to my side," Hermione's eyes literally widened at his words, she had to force herself to be composed, "I'll sit right here," with a grunt, he folded his long legs whilst sitting down right next to her, it was almost invasion of her personal space but that didn't make Draco Malfoy give two tosses about it.

Eventually after many harmless arguments between the two, Hermione telling Draco to stop talking crap about his teachers just because he didn't understood the formula of a an simple Arthmancy equation, Draco practically tearing off any parchment he could lay his eyes upon until Hermione had to take them far away from his reach and several little smootches here and there, both the head girl and boy laid exhausted in the middle of the living area.

Hermione looked over to the wall clock, it was three when they started, now it was bloody half past seven in the evening. They had covered a substantial amount of coursework throughout their banter, she only hoped that Draco could use his mind properly and not let her effort and time go to waste. Hermione couldn't even move herself to stand up without hearing a few joints cracking in her back, the stress was definitely there, she noted. Draco, however, was a different story, he looked calmer than before (when Hermione had found him shouting cusses at Flitwick and Slughorn) like he was finally at peace after a long hard effort. His eyes were closed as be laid on the floor, his head slightly angled towards Hermione's lap.

Seeing his eyes closed, Hermione took the opportunity to admire his beautiful pale face in her lap— his golden eyelashes fanning over his pale cheeks and soft pink lips that she had kissed quite a few times now, more than she'd like to admit. His hair was soft, just like she had predicted. Her fingers ran through his mane, grazing his scalf ever so slightly, if one didn't know the hatred they both had for each other, they'd actually think they were a couple.

Hermione nearly laughed, Draco Malfoy and her a couple? Gods no, never.

Hermione smiled down at his sleeping figure, he looked so calm and peaceful, Hermione couldn't ho but bend down and press a chaste kiss to his forehead, moving on to both of his cheeks, his nose and then finally, the addicted path down to his lips, her favorite. Hermione had barely touched her lips to his own when a cold hand crept upto her cheek. Her eyes bulged at the thought of being caught red handed, but even more when she realized that Draco's silver eyes had decided to grace over her again, shooting open in a sharp manner to take in her appearance. Hermione didn't stop cradling his head in her petite hands, just like Draco didn't dare to move his head from her comforting lap. His hand was around her wrist, grasping her firmly but gently, neither of them knew what was happening to them, where were the sudden..._feelings_ coming from.

"Do you always kiss people when their sleeping, Granger?" Hermione blushed at his words, she didn't even have a retort for him. "Well? Do you?" Draco pressed, caressing her palm that he held onto. Hermione felt herself closing her eyes and leaning into his touch even more, her head dipped slightly to be even closer to him.

"No," It took every ounce of her courage to say that, "Only you." and then, Draco had her pulled down to meet his lips and they were kissing, hungrily, feverishly, passionately. Tongue on tongue, teeth on teeth. The weird angle almost made Hermione pull apart but Draco held onto her, twisting his body ever so slightly that it was easier for her to kiss him back. She bent down to him; their mouths met again, and the shock of sensation was so strong, so overpowering, that Hermione shut her eyes against it as if she could hide in the darkness. He murmured and gathered her against him, like a fragile doll who'd break the moment he let go, Draco was now sitting, his eyes gazing the witch before him, a different kind of sensation pooling at his heart.

He didn't like it, it was addictive, temporary and not to be talked about.

"What are we doing, Draco?" she looked into his silver eyes, her knee touching his on the floor now.

"Something we won't talk about in the morning," he replied, pressing his lips to her own again. While he kissed her senseless and Hermione let out a soft moan, at the back of her mind, his answer still disappointed her; but then she realized that Draco Malfoy was not someone who she could have feelings for, this no strings attached thing was what was best for them, she could not, under any circumstances, get attached to him, if that stupid kiss cam had given her the chance to snog him for at least a month then she'd do exactly that.

"Granger," Draco's lips were on her jaw and trailing down a wet line from her jawbone to her throat. She closed her eyes on utter ecstasy, relishing the moment of urgency, she made the bold move to pull off her shirt, that's when Draco's eyes widened— seeing her in a blue bra and pink skirt was anything but discomforting to him. "Granger, are you sur—"

"Something we won't talk about in the morning, yeah?" Hermione repeated his words from earlier and pulled his face towards herself, kissing his lips, his throat, his jaw, any part of skin in her sight, "Take off your shirt Malfoy, it's just one night." it was the burn that was talking, that much she knew but when she saw Draco removing his shirt,

Did it even matter?

**\--**

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	10. 10 Exposed to the Devil

**(WARNNING : mild sexual themes)**

**P.s. Literally the first time I've written smut, please tell how it was, it would be a great help for *winks* next time.**

Hermione's heart was thumping loudly against her ribcage, her eyes fluttered open and closed with every passing second, her palms were oddly sweaty and her mind, dear Merlin, her mind was in an utter frenzy, the sound of blood rushing through in her ears made her stop breathing for a few seconds— here, after this, nothing would be the same, ever; and she had to tell herself exactly that.

A wet kiss was marked on her jawline, making her insides clench at the mere thought of what would happen next, of what awaited them if Draco and her actually did it, she couldn't even speak the word let alone fathom the idea of it.

But her mind wasn't working, next thing she knew was her back being pressed into the soft lush sofa. Suddenly, she felt too exposed, too vulnerable under the serpent eyes Draco regarded her with— clear lust and sin etched into his silver orbs. Hermione let out a throaty moan, a sound coming from the back of her mouth that made Draco fucking hard. Draco was quick to unleash his desires, his hand traveled all the way up to Hermione's chest in a slow tantalizing motion, his fingers taking their oh so precious time to touch every inch of skin exposed to his naked eye; and then, she felt his fingers grazing her bra clad breast, it was in that moment, Hermione realised how good it felt— to be touched, to be wanted, to be desired, to feel the clenching and unclenching of her inner walls, to be exposed.

Her heart was beating off rhythm by now, she was definite of that— Draco took his time, enjoying the sensation of holding her in his cold hands, of looking down at her whimpering form practically begging him to fuck her to oblivion, her eyes gave the whole thing away. By now, blood was rushing south of his body and he wasn't sure how much longer would he be able to contain it. Draco dipped his face in the crook of her neck, breathing into her skin— he may or may not have flicked his tongue on her skin that may have caused a sensual moan to arise in the room. It was madness; the way she was looking at him; her eyes opening and fluttering close after a few seconds, her arched back practically begging him to take her then and there on the couch, her wild curls sprawled all over the soft cushion of the furniture, some untammed locks covering her face which he instinctively bent down to remove from her face, pressing a heated kiss to her lips in the aftermath, the way she laid there in front of him— her perfect skin exposed to his eyes, and his eyes only and her lips quivering with every passing minute.

"Draco?" he realised he was looking at her for quite some time now, unable to move his feet.

"Yeah?"

Hermione climbed up a little and took his wrist in her fingers, wrapping it securely around his skin before tugging him down. His face was now inches away from her own, their lips slightly brushing. Draco visibly gulped.

_What was happening to her? _

"What would it take you to fuck me?" the crude words rolled right off her tongue, so smoothly that even he himself was shocked. When he stuttered for a response, (which, Merlin knew, was the first time he had ever stuttered in a long time) Hermione pressed another wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, her way of telling him to go on.

"A simple please would do, Granger." he smirked, his fingers wrapping around her own and pushing them off his wrist. He figured Granger wasn't in the right state of mind, it was obvious, a know it all witch like herself probably said _"Jesus, forgive me." _right after a small cuss.

"Please?" she whispered.

"What? I didn't hear that." Draco put his face right next to her own, slowly pushing her down back on the couch, this time, he was right on top of her body, his limbs caging her within. An arrogant smirk was etched onto his face, "Be a darling and say that again, would you?"

Hermione bit her lip at his words, her eyes moved away from Draco's unblinking silver ones, looking at everything else but nothing in particular around the now-dark dorm. She felt a hand grabbing her chin, forcefully making her look into his gray eyes, "Say. It. Again." he growled at her.

"I—" as she struggled for words, Draco's hand did wonders to her now exposed breast, she didn't know when had he managed to pull the bra off but by the looks of it, he had done it. Her mind couldn't conjure up words already and Draco decided to fuck with her already chaotic brain. He rolled his expert fingers off her skin, pinching her at a soft that made her moan, it was madness and pure ecstasy.

"Draco..." her eyes rolled at tye back of her skull the moment Draco flicked each of her perky nipples, "Be a darling," he repeated with a husky voice, "And say it again."

Before Hermione could respond, there was a knock on their door. It was like the spell had been broken and the next thing they both knew was their bodies freezing—Draco's hands stopped doing their wonders to Hermione's body and Hermione, heck, she swore that she stopped breathing. In less than a second, both of them were moving away from each other as fast as humanly possible.

_If someone hadn't knocked on the door, what would've happened?_

The mere idea made Hermione scream. Immediately, she was searching around the floor while Draco stood dead in his place, Hermione paid him little mind though, she couldn't even look at him in the eye and she knew he couldn't either, now, it was just... awkward.

Hermione soon found her discarded shirt and quickly threw it on, it was then that she realized that she was lacking a bra. After cussing under her breath multiple times, she finally located it on the ground right next to Draco's feet. Hermione took an audible gulp as she moved towards it; her hand reached out to grasp the fabric when, to her great horror, she realised that Malfoy had beat her to it. Now, the undergarment shamelessly dangled off his right index finger as Hermione dared to look at him in the eye, her throat felt raw and dry— not a single word left her mouth as she looked at Draco smirking, his own shirt halfway pulled to his pale torso and her bra suspended on his finger.

"Malfoy!" she growled, cheeks still pink from the aftermath of the earlier events, "Give it back!" the knocking on the door grew urgent and she could swear, she heard the locks rotate at some point too, talk about being paranoid.

When her eyes fell onto Draco's smug expression, she knew she wasn't going to win. So she gave up, letting out a mad squeal and hitting him on the chest with several futile punches before running off to her room, the door slamming shut.

Draco had just fixed his shirt and stuffed the bra in his trousers' pocket that he heard the lock in the door move. The next thing he knew was McGonagall pushing her way past the door, panting. She had a hand clutched to her chest and the other, holding her wand. At the sight of Draco, she relaxed. "Good gracious," she heaved a sigh of relief, "I presumed the worst when nobody opened the door for so long. My apologies for breaking in on my own." but she didn't seem sorry at all, Draco noted, she actually looked worried.

_Well that was a first. _

"You thought I would've killed Granger by now?" Draco's gaze shifted to McGonagall, who, for some reason, was looking up at him, her eyes were a little higher than where his eyes were— oh.

As fast as he could, he ran a hand through his wild _almost sex hair,_ smoothing the blond locks down with several pats. He only hoped that she wouldn't suspect anything.

"Actually," McGonagall looked suspicious but didn't say anything further. "I thought she had killed _you_." The witch clasped her wrinkly hands in front of her, eyeing the tall boy in front of her with clear suspicion.

"Oh?" Draco sounded almost defeated. It was heart wrenching to think that McGonagall favored Hermione over him in a duel, it simply irritated him, which, he obviously didn't show.

"Speaking of which, where is she? I have a task for her." Finally an excuse to get Granger out of this god forsaken room? It felt like music to his ears. Draco was ready to run in the direction of her room but then he reminded himself that he was the last person she wanted to see after their encounter minutes ago— the single thought made him hold his ground.

"How do I say this Professor?" he started, eyes all gleamy, "She's... well, she's having one of _those_ days," At that, McGonagall widened her eyes, even her glasses slipped right down to her nose at it. "She can't really see anyone right now, she told me to keep everyone from visiting her today. In fact, she's been locked up in her room being all cranky since the morning, hasn't even eaten anything, I am sorry I can't call her out,"

"And she told you that..." McGonagall looked too shocked to even say it, "She told you that she's having one of _those_ days?"

At that, Draco paled a little more than his usual color. (and that was saying something) but he came up with another lie anyway, "Yes she did, I kept bugging her all day with my homework, you see." he gestured vaguely to the sprawled books around the floor. "She just went to bed in fact, you can check if you want to." Draco didn't know why he said that but the moment he did, he wanted to smack himself right across the face.

"Alright then, I'll see if she's alright." McGonagall looked more concerned than angry as she made her way to the room. On the kther hand, Draco counted down the seconds until the old hag came barging back and yelling at him.

It was a matter of time now, really.

But he was surprised to see McGonagall return with a frown on her wrinkled face, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The poor thing has had a hectic day, she has indeed overworked herself, like all days really," Draco sneaked a peek at her slightly ajar door, true to his straugut up lie, she was sprawled lazily on the bed on her stomach, her wild curls making a menace on the sheets.

"Well, in that case, I think you are also a suitable candidate for the job I had for her," Draco had just finished praising himself (in his mind) that how good of a liar he was when McGonagall decided to interrupt, "I need you to go to Diagon Alley right this instance and get me some things from there, I can't send anyone else, no one knows about it right now expect me and the head girl, now, you," she almost rolled her eyes and Draco nearly scoffed.

_Had he just taken Granger's workload? _

"It just for the— the—" never in all his life had he seen Minerva McGonagall stutter, Draco almost had a heart attack.

"You don't need to tell me Professor." he spared her, "I'll be on my way in a minute." he spoke calmly, still can't believing he had taken Hermione's work and decided to be teacher's pet for the day. This actually made him wish he had barged into her room the first time and had her come out and see the old woman.

_But it was too late now._

"Thank you, Miste— thank you Draco." she smiled politely at him but Draco was too stunned at the sight. He took the rolled parchment from her hands and gave her a curt nod.

"I'll come back in two hours, it wouldn't take long." was the last thing she said before walking out the dorm, thankfully placing the locks back on. The moment the dorm room closed, Draco felt a familiar figure lurking behind him— Hermione had just balled up her fists and was coming to hit him in the back when Draco moved out of the way, Hermione fell forward and Draco took the opportunity to grab onto her forearms, her hands still clecned into small fists, as he laid her down to the floor softly, him on top. "Now, now, now Granger, I expected better from Gryffindors than to attack from behind." his breath fanned her neck, almost instantly, she was sighing, her fists loosening.

Draco noticed she hadn't decided to wear a bra— or so said her perking nipples from the thin shirt.

"You're lucky I heard you making up blant lies about me having one of _those_ days and opting to go to bed early, which, by the way, was genius, I'd give you that," Hermione chuckled, Draco felt his insides clench a little at the sound, he'd never seen her laugh, he had only brought her tears and hate, anything but laughter. "If I hadn't heard you—" Hermione was talking again, "We both could've been caught flushed and she'd know you were lying about something. Thank Godric!" she bellowed, heaving a long sigh. Draco still had her pinned to the ground when she slightly moved, ushering him to pull her up which he did after a second or two.

"What did McGonagall want?" on reply, Draco showed her the parchment in his hand, Hermione skimmed over the contents. "Looks like you're going shopping for orphans."

"What?" Draco thought he didn't hear her right.

"From time to time, professor McGonagall takes out her precious time to go to Diagon Alley to get some toys and stuff for the first and second year orphaned kids for the holdidays so they don't feel bad. It's a lovely gesture, such kindness, if you ask me." Hermione explained, "And as Christmas is almost near, she likes to get stuff done before the actually holiday, much earlier than necessary though. She must have been busy with something that's why she told you to go, otherwise it's just her, and you, fellow head, are going on my place, I must say, thank you very much for saving me from this. As much as I love kids, I hate shopping." Hermione stood up, not waiting for Draco she snatched the peering bra from his pocket and smiled brightly.

"Chop chop, on you go now." she encouraged him before skipping happily to her room. The awkwardness, thankfully, had toned down, but she knew that Draco wasn't going to let it go any time soon, he'd taunt her on and off about it but she reminded herself that this too, shall pass. She had endured Draco's insults for seven years now, one more couldn't make a difference. Hermione heard a knock on the door the moment she pressed her back to it.

"Who is it?" She couldn't help but bite her bottom lip in nervousness, she didn't know why was she acting like a school girl all over again but it felt like a huge change from her usual uptight self, it felt nice. Things had fallen back into place with Draco quick, while she hadn't expected that, she was still really glad— sharing a dorm with someone who was going to be super awkward with her was just a big no no.

"It's Peeves," Draco answered in a bored tone just when Hermione opened the door. Draco glanced a look south, his eyes closing as if he was suppressing a grin, but she could have be wrong. "Honestly Granger, what would it take for you to put on a bra?" at that, Hermione covered her chest with her hands, passing a sly smile to Draco who couldn't stop gawking at her by now.

And then she remembered his words from earlier, "A simple please would do, Malfoy." she drawled, taking her time to enjoy the satisfying expression of shock on his face.

"You're something else Granger." he muttered more to himself than her, rubbing his temples. "_Please_, put on a bra." he practically begged, his voice defeated.

"I'll think about it." she didn't know where the sudden confidence was coming from but she liked it, it was brilliant, she thought. "Any particular reason why you knocked?"

"Actually, yes." Draco put an arm above her on the doorframe, leaning in to her. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss before I'm off?" his eyes looked playful, Hermione noted, it was something new.

"Only if you tell me you're feeling the burn," Hermione shot back, folding her arms on her chest, a sudden playful demeanor taking over the witch.

Draco seemed to think for a few moments, "Yes." he lied, pressing his lips to her's, enjoying the few blissful moments of bliss before the morning misery that followed.

This was going to end up in a disaster.

**HELLO! SORRY, NO SMUT FOR NOW, TOO EARLY, UGH, SO SORRY IF YOU WERE EXPECTING IT.**

**Can we get... 95 votes for the next chapter? (hey, I did write some smut) leave an honest review and vote if you liked it! Love you all, till next time. x**


	11. 11 Confessions of a dangerous Mind

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur, Draco was keen on understanding whatever Hermione taught him during their little study sessions together. While they had covered the most from half a month of missing classes in almost a week, he still wasn't done. Draco wished that he could be a little slower— so that he could've spent a little more time making the Gryffindor witch go absolutely bonkers with useless bickering and of course, stealing a few kisses in between.

Draco had resumed his classes from that very week too, getting on quite well for someone who had missed such amount of coursework with the midterms right around the corner. Hermione, for once, was pleased with Draco at how well he had managed to handle things, from schoolwork to frequent trips to Diagon Alley, (McGonagall had grown quite fond of the Slytherin boy, sending him from time to time to Diagon Alley for even the smallest bit off stuff she required) to keeping a clean slate with her own self too, it was maddening to think that Draco had handled all of it so good.

The burn, however, hadn't subsidized for either of them, they had almost neared a full month since the Quidditch Kiss Cam fiasco and yet, here they were, the burn not even going down a notch for either of them.

Hermione didn't know if she'd complain or smile about it.

While Draco had been off her blacklist for quite some time now, she didn't want to give him the benefit if the doubt too soon. She wanted to keep her guard up, just in case. Speaking of which, Draco had indeed come around after their awkward _almost sex_ situation to taunt her. He'd walk by her hunched figure over the table engrossed in a book and say _"Oh fuck me Draco, Merlin, what would it take you to fuck me? Oh!" _in a girly voice before casually walking off, leaving behind a tomato red Hermione.

But that happened only twice, thank God for that. After the second time, Draco paid little to no mind to her, though she would catch him giving her a once over sometimes.

Both of them had been extremely busy with the midterms approaching, neither one noticed how fast time was actually flying, before they knew it, it was time for exams were only a week away, followed by a much needed Christmas break. Several students were staying back like every year while more went back home. Hermione was planning on staying at the castle. Though she had been invited to The Burrow my Molly and Arthur, she just didn't feel like going. Ron still hadn't talked to her since that day she had first kissed Draco, things weren't extravagant with Harry either— though he smiled at her in their classes and made small talk very rarely at the Gryffindor table, he was still very uncomfortable with the whole idea. Hermione had given up trying to explain the whole ordeal to them. Neither one of them was ready to listen to her let alone see her for more than five minutes, it was a complete no no.

Ginny had been the only one to talk to her, she had been accompanying her through the castle halls and the common room. They talked about how her mother was probably knitting away jumpers for the whole bloody family and how the whole Weasley family was looking forward to Christmas, like always.

But when the conversation took a dangerous turn to Draco, Hermione was sure to steer clear ahead of Ginny, who, for some reason was talking more about Malfoy than any other person in the world.

Hermione would ask her how was she liking the school year so far and she'd counter back with a, "_How's Malfoy in bed?" _to which, Hermione would absolutely flush at. Ginny, on the other hand, just laughed it off. It wasn't uncomfortable as she had imagined in her head, talking to Ginny made her feel good, like she did, after all, have a friend other than Ron and Harry.

_Now_, as she lay on the huge grey four-poster bed with Draco's head in her lap, she tried to think of a distraction— anything that would make her seem less uncomfortable as she twitched ever so often. Draco was almost asleep, his golden eyelashes created half-moon shadows on his high cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted and Hermione could see his chest heaving up and down with every breath he took. His left arm was swung lazily across his eyes as he managed to catch some shut eye.

Hermione didn't know what had happened— all she remembered was coming into his room to teach him a few linear basics of transfigurations but one thing led to another, the same way some basic transfigurations led to Draco sleeping in Hermione's lap yet again, just sleep, no kisses.

Good thing was, at least they were done with all his missing work.

Being the kind witch she was, she didn't want to wake him up by moving, having already attempted that and stirring him awake, it was the last thing she wanted to do now.

"Yes Granger, the answer is yes." His voice was tired, she looked at him in surprise, having no idea what the hell he was on about. "You asked me the other day, Granger. When you spilled tea all over me, not to mention practically forced me to heal yourself if I could do wandless magic." At this, he removed his arm from his eyes and looked at the witch above, a crimson blush making way to her cheeks.

"Being a deatheater," Hermione cringed at the word, Draco, however, seemed unfazed. Like he was used to people cringing after hearing about such an awful creature. "Has its perks. You get to learn magic no one knows about, no one even thinks about." And suddenly, he was sitting on his bed, holding her hand so tightly, one would think it was for his own dear life. "I could destroy you here, Granger, I could destroy you right now between these four walls and no one would know, do you know that? Do you know what I am capable of doing?" his eyes looked like glass balls, shiny and clear, you could see the storm brewing in them as clear as day. "You are the brightest witch of our age, Granger. But I was also the youngest death-eater to have ever been selected. Maybe it was because of my father's hideous behavior and cowardice, but that doesn't change the fact that I was." a tremor of current ran down Hermione's spine at his words, this was very new to her, this, him, everything. The moment she had started to grow even the slightest bit of soft towards him, he threw another bomb at her.

"I could destroy you Granger, right now." His hands traveled upto her neck, wrapping his fingers around her throat, he looked at her in the eye, those chocolate eyes that had made him this way in the first place. Hermione was at a loss of words, she couldn't speak, let alone comprehend what was Draco doing. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to grab her wand for her robes and throw a _PetrificusTotalus_ at his pale figure, screaming at her to run for her precious life, to bolt out that door of his room right now.

But she couldn't bring herself to even walk a centimeter away from the boy before her.

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the sensation of his fingers on her throat, pressing against her column and then, traveling in slow motion up to her chin, words had rendered her speechless by now.

Her eyes bore into his and she saw it, saw the fear he was housing in his lifeless gray eyes. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, not after more than one and a half month of _actually_ knowing him she couldn't believe that he would actually kill/hurt her or anyone else. Hermione refused to push his hands away, she wanted to see what _he_ would do.

"You made my life a living hell Granger, I don't suppose you know that," his fingers were on her throat, sliding up and down in a tease. "My fucking father," he breathed, "Beat me to death every time our exam results came. Not because I was doing bad, dear Merlin, no, it was because I couldn't beat you, a mudblood, as he'd tell me." Hermione's eyes widened slightly, this was new to her, so new. "He-" she saw him struggle for words and she didn't the only thing her heart told her to— Hermione laced her fingers with his, still on her throat. To her surprise, Draco pulled their entwined hands towards him and pressed a wet kiss to her hand, dropping the bundle of fingers right in her lap while the other grazed the flesh on her throat.

"I dreaded the exam sessions because I knew I'd never be able to beat you. Second place was not an option for me, for my father," Draco voiced, his fingers clenching Hermione's. "This will sound stupid but I even considering begging you to let me have first place just once so I could tell father that I finally did it," he chuckled dryly, "But my ego was too big for me to do that. So I— I started hating you more with every passing day. If I couldn't beat you, I started hating you, I didn't know what else to do." Draco choked on a sob and Hermione felt her tears finally roll down her face.

"I wanted to kill you, you know."

Hermione stopped shaking at those words. Her heart couldn't take it anymore, even then, she didn't let go of his fingers entwined with her own ones. Instead, she only brought them up to her lips and kissed his hand gently, her lips lingering there for just a second too longer than what was dubbed absolutely necessary.

"I wanted you to scream and beg for mercy, I wanted you to die at the tip of my wand. The girl who had brought me so much misery and embarrassment in the eyes of my father, I wanted her dead. Was that bad of me, tell me?" Her hands felt cold just when Draco pulled his fingers out of her grasp. "I was stupid, naive, idiotic." he continued to shake his head as if the his mind was plagued. "I was about to do it, you know?" his fingers were back on her throat, lightly pressing her skin slightly, Draco dipped his tongue forward in the crook of her neck, Hermione inhaled a sharp breath.

He flicked his tongue in a sadistic manner over her soft skin, the member in his pants approving of his actions everytime she let out a small moan of pleasure. Having kissed her many times, Draco knew all her sweet spots, the points where she would get maximum satisfaction.

"That night, in sixth year. Just before I had to have Dumbledore at the tip of my wand— I saw you, crying." confessions and more confessions made her head spin. "You were with Potter. I saw you send canaries at Weasley and his girlfriend. I could've killed you, it was the perfect chance." He dropped his fingers from her throat, all the way down to her shoulders, tracing the arch of her back and down to her waist as his fingers slid down and down.

Hermione bit her lip, her eyes closed. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't do it." his fingers caressed her skin on her waist, after gentle grazing, he lifted her shirt just a bit, burying his hands under the fabric.

"It's our choices that define us, Draco." She threaded her fingers through his ever so soft hair, her fingertips grazing his scalp as she saw Draco close his eyes and part his lips. "It may not have been your choice to be a deatheater, but it was your choice to not kill me. You did the right thing, all of us have some light in us, I always knew you did, too." Hermione dipped her head to kiss him, "I don't know if you need to hear this but you're better than what you think of yourself and you don't even have the slightest idea of it."

"Stop being so bloody nice to me Granger." Draco clasped her hands in his, "To everyone. I certainly do not deserve your kindness, your sympathy, your pity and your— your benevolence." He hissed at the girl, "I tell you that I wanted to kill you and this is what you tell me? That I have light in me? That I have some sort of bizzare goodness in me? That I'm worthy of love and affection? That I am not a monster? That I am capable of feeling anything but hatred, agony, jealousy and selfishness? That I—"

"What I'm trying to tell you is," her heart clenched at the sight of him before her. Every word he spoke was like a sharp blow to her heart, wounding her by every passing second he spoke. She stood up from the bed, planting her bare feet firmly on the stone floor, her fists clenching. "Yes. You do, I don't know why but I do. Maybe it's foolish of me to but I don't care. I believe you can love—"

"Scared you might love me one day, eh, Granger?" Draco's words were cheeky, a grin on his face and sin his eyes.

"No, scared that you _will_ love me one day," Her words were soft, almost a whisper but he heard it. He wasn't expecting her to retort but she did. Draco was taken aback as he watched her make her way towards the door. She paused for a moment as if she had remembered something but she didn't speak, only walking out of the room leaving behind a confused slytherin.

**\--**

Around midnight, Hermione tossed and turned in her bed. Her mind was replaying her earlier conversation with Draco. How open he had been with her, so straightforward and blunt like always. She didn't know why he had confessed all those things to her but he did, it was as simple as that.

Maybe he had grown too attached at the possibility of having a friend, someone to confide in. While Hermione wasn't exactly his friend, she could see why she had been his first choice to confide in— they had been attached to each other in these four walls of the dorm they shared. While she had lost Ron and Harry, seeing Draco emerge from the pits of hell was almost a relief. While she knew he was no saint, he was all she had. The human mind worked dangerously, it conjured false beliefs in one's head and makes them hope, for better or for worse. The human heart was even more dangerous— it seeked love, attachment and care. It chose to confide in people, whether they be your best of friends or your worst enemies, it needed a chamber to keep its darkest secrets in, to be able to speak freely and to be loved back, it seeked the attention of someone on the loneliest nights and warmth on bright summer days.

Sadly, that person had happened to be Draco Malfoy for Hermione. The absence of her friends had led her to confide in Draco, it was odd but it was true.

For Draco, things were different. While Hermione had friends to confide in and trust, Draco never had friends to begin with so his heart had done the only thing it was avoiding all those years after he met Hermione— it wrapped itself around her aura.

She could see how hard it was for him, to be able to finally given a chance to voice his thoughts and he wasn't just about to let that opportunity slip from his fingers. Even though he didn't admit it, she knew that she had grown to become a huge part of Draco's life, even if it was just for mutual benefit, too.

It was true. He had grown attached to him just as she had to him.

And it was terrifying, utterly terrifying.

Hermione couldn't sleep four hours— Draco's confessions had gotten the best of her and now, she was up on her feet. She discarded her clothes on the ground, suddenly feeling too hot. Her curls sprawled on the pillows as she laid down and tried to breath.

_Sleep will come, _she told herself.

But it never did.

However, what did come, was a soft knock on the door, before Hermione had the chance to respond, Draco was already walking in, his white shirt was stained with a huge ink blotch and his hair looked like someone had ran a hand through them a million times now. The room was still dark, he couldn't see her much except from the thin view of a vertical streak of light on her face, faintly making out her big brown eyes. Just as Draco moved forward in her direction, she gripped the sheet tighter against her chest, suddenly feeling too exposed.

Without uttering a word, he made his way to her bed, sitting down right next to her as his fingers touched her leg under the covers. When Hermione took a sharp breath in, he knew she was wide awake by now.

None of them spoke anything, the silence was deafening.

And then, she felt him brush her wild curls away from her face. "I am sorry," He whispered, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "I am so sorry," his voice broke with every syllable, just then, Hermione felt something wet drop on her arm's skin.

Fresh tears.

"I am so sorry," This time, Hermione cupped his face with one hand whilst clutching the sheet to her chest with the other. She prodded his chin up to look into his eyes, chaos and madness welcomed her like a fast friend. "I am sorry for calling you a mudblood, I am sorry for thinking of killing you," His voice died in his throat, "I am sorry for making your life miserable all those years— I am sorry, _Hermione_."

And that was the final straw, Hermione burst into tears, her sobs matching his as they filled the room simultaneously. She crushed him in a hug, completely forgetting about her nearly-naked self underneath, even though she had on a bra, it was nothing he hadn't seen before.

"Stop crying, stop crying." she repeated the mantra as she rocked him back and forth slightly in her arms like a child. "You're okay,"

That seemed to do the trick because after a momen or two, though his body still shook, he wasn't crying anymore.

Hermione eyed his messy self with concern, her heart and mind cludlkt believe the consequences and event of tonight. "Ink."

"What?" his voice was hoarse.

"On your shirt." she added, touching his shirt to prove her point in the darkness. Before he could say something, she was already unbuttoning his shirt, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders and hooked a finger in his belt hoop, pulling him closer. "I was just trying to work on the equations you told me and—" he gestured to the ink, trying very hard (and failing) to keep a straight face at the way Hermione's fingers grazed his torso.

"If you try anything, you're going to hear from me." She smiled shyly at him before pushing him back on her bed. Maybe it wasn't what he needed but what she needed. It took Draco minutes to decipher her words and what she was doing. His muscles felt dead by the moment his back pressed against the soft mattress. "We can talk about this in the morning, for now, sleep." she snuggled closer to the pale boy. When he didn't move, she forcefully grasped his hand and threw it over her frail body.

"Goodnight Draco," she moved only slightly and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Goodnight, Granger." she entwined his fingers with his and pressed her lips to their closed hands.

"Hermione." she mumbled, turning to see him in the eye.

"You said it yourself today, it's Hermione from today." she smiled.

Sleep had never seemed so blissful as it did then, nothing could top it, ever, that much Draco knew.

**_**

**Hello lovelies, I'm back! Okay, I know this is a lot to ask but can we get 150 votes for this? This is super long and super good (I know even I am proud) and the higher I set the target, the longer I can work on the next Chap lol, makes me have some time!**

**This is by far my favorite chapter I have written, hope you like it too and please like always, leave a review because I live for them!**

**Love you all, till next time xx**


	12. 12 Heart to Hearts

Hermione's legs wobbled as she made her way outside the classroom. Her head was spinning and it seemed like she was going to pass out any moment now, right here on the stone flooring. She put a hand to her head and tried her best to keep her feet steady on the ground. She was the last one to walk out of the room considering that she had taken extra time to recheck her exam, everyone had already left; considering by the long faces they all had when they walked out, she figured they all had a shitty exam.

Even the teachers had gone. Hermione took a few moments to gather her tired self.

Ten minutes in extra time had been granted to them because of a minor distraction— Ron had caused a mayhem when he had seen Draco sit right next to him, pouncing on him even before he had taken a seat, apparently, he was still mad about him kissing Hermione that day at the Quidditch game.

What was surprising was that Draco hadn't punched him back, he had only sneered at the redhead.

As shocking as it was, it was all true. Hermione made a mental note to talk to Ron about him being a nuisance after the exam was over.

Not only had he lost Gryffindor fifty points, thanks to McGonagall, but also made her lose focus momentarily.

Now, as she shakily made her way out the large room, she felt extremely lightheaded. These were her finals, she hadn't gotten the chance to study properly like before in all her previous exams. This time, she had Draco to get distracted when she was studying; the way he'd pepper kisses down her neck from back and loop his arms around her waist while she was engrossed in a textbook was only one of the many things he had done to her in their time studying together.

She had merely stepped outside when a firm tug on her wrist dragged her back inside. A hand covered her mouth as she was pressed against the wall. It all happened so quickly— Hermione gasped, the door was slammed shut to the room and a familiar cold pair of lips was pressed against her jaw.

Hermione's eyes fluttered close.

"Draco, not now—" not only her arms failed to push him away but her voice too, breaking ever so slightly when his lips latched onto her own ones. Draco's fingers wrapped around her wrists and pinned them above her head, and captured her lips with his; starting soft at first and then slowly increasing his pace. He went from soft to passionate to sensual; he teased her by pushing his tongue inside her mouth and retreating just when she gave in. He kissed her like she wanted to be kissed, like any girl would fantasize about, like she was his only lifeline and kissing her was the only medium to breathe for the both of them. Draco held both her wrists by one hand and cupped her hot face in the other one, drawing her closer and closer with every stroke to her cheek. They'd part their lips ever so little to collect their precious oxygen, still brushing their lips together before teasing her again with his tongue again.

"If you do that one more time Dra—" but he was smiling at her and then, he was kissing her senseless, their mouths working together in perfect synchronization, their tongues pushing for union but not dominance, no, they danced a teasing waltz against each other's, it was fervent, intoxicating, zealous and passionate, it made her dizzy but she loved every second of it.

"Do you want me to take you here on Flitwick's desk or would your dorm do?" Draco smirked, pulling away after kissing the corner of her mouth. Heat rose to Hermione's cheeks, her stomach was doing somersaults at the sight of Draco's face; his pale cheeks were tainted a light pink and his lips looks bruised, but it wasn't just because they had been kissing moments ago. Hermione traced her fingers on his lips, he closed his eyes at the familiar calming touch.

"I'll talk to Ron about that," she produced her wand from her robes and muttered a quick episkey at his split lip, "There, all good to kiss again." she smiled at his shocked state and kissed his lips briefly again.

She felt Draco sigh against her mouth. He pulled back to gaze into her warm brown eyes, a ghost of smile playing on his face. "How was your exam?" At that, he felt Hermione slump further into his arms. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his deep masculine scent. Draco instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her from slumping any further and quite possibly, landing face first on the floor.

"Horrible. I have no idea how I did," he breath fanned his skin. Draco took grasp of her hand and laced their fingers together, he pushed their fingers up against the wall and steadied her on her feet. The sight of their tangled fingers brought a smile on her face, just weeks ago they had been bickering nonstop, shouting at each other and making the other's life a living hell and now, here they were, kissing and talking about their day like they were some sort of couple. If someone had told her that she would be kissing, let alone conversing about their exams in total harmony without any involvement of snarky comments from either sides, she would have laughed her lungs out.

Things played out how they were supposed to, she was only glad that they had played out in her favor; for the time being at least. Hermione felt like she had to relish all these little moments they had together in the dark before a storm invaded, which, she was sure, would come— sooner or later. It was just the consequence she had to endure is she wanted to keep seeing the boy before her eyes.

"That's impossible," Draco drawled in an irritated voice, Hermione blinked. "You're Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our age. I'm pretty sure you know more than the daft idiots who teach us," He rolled his eyes at her giggling self, "And don't you dare tell me that's not the case. It's simply impossible for you to not know anything on our exams."

"Well, I know I got all my answers correct—" Hermione said in a small voice just when Draco threw his hands up, "But in Arithmancy you can never be quite sure," she added guiltily, true to her words; she knew everything on the exam, well, except one small thing but hey, that wasn't a big thing, she wasn't worried about her exam, she realized, only tired.

"Enough about me," Hermione shook her head. She used her other hand to stroke Draco's hair away from his eyes. It had grown quite long over time, she noted dully. She saw him close his eyes before opening them again, "How did you do? Did you get that part right about—"

"As much as I love kissing your pretty little mouth, fellow head," Draco interrupted, kissing her again to prove his point and leaving the girl in front of him bewildered, "I'd like to go to our dorm so not only can I kiss you without the fear of anyone looking but talk to you about whatever you were going to say." Before she could answer, he was already pulling her out the door but seeing upon a train of students lingering around, he immediately pulled his hand out of hers.

Separately, they made their way back to the head dorm.

Hermione couldn't help but feel embarrassed at Draco's earlier stunt. She felt used, as odd as it sounded. Like she was all he could have behind the hidden curtains of their head dorm, and not openly in the middle of everyone. Her mind plagued her with several other similar thoughts until she closed her eyes and took a calming breath.

No, she reminded herself. This was probably for the best, no strings attached, she pressed further.

People like Draco Malfoy were not made for people like herself, they weren't meant to be together, she reminded herself.

Suddenly, she stopped dead on her tracks, realization hit her like a bag of bricks.

This was exactly the kind of prejudice that had turned Draco the way he was now. Exactly the kind of bullshit his parents, his father in particular had fed him that had led him to be this way, exactly the same thing Hermione had always discouraged— how hypocritical of her to think the same way, let herself be led on by prejudiced thoughts like the youngest Malfoy had been.

She was better than this and she was going to show this to him.

**\--**

"Potions exam is in three days," Hermione reminded Draco, he let out a groan and dropped the lock of her hair he was twirling in between his fingers. He flicked her forehead on his chest softly making her sit up.

"Hey!" Hermione smacked his chest, earning little to no protest. She rubbed her forehead in irritation. "That hurt! What the hell Draco!"

Draco sighed before sitting up on her bed, he raked a hand through his blond hair and set his eyes on the Gryffindor witch in front of him who kept on throwing a fit on the smallest of things. "How can I not do that when you keep on reminding me of stupid stuff like exams?" He retorted, "We literally just got back from a fucking exam, the least you can do is not remind me about the next one."

"You're impossible," Hermione got up but was pulled down the next moment, her back flat against the soft bed as Draco hovered over her body much similar to the time when they had first kissed, when he had broken her picture frame. But this time, he did not have that sadistic glint in his eyes. Dare she say it, it actually looked like the glint in one's eye when they were infatuated with someone. Draco passed her a sly smirk, brushing his lips over hers but not kissing her, the little tingle was driving her mad, she pulled him by the collar and looked at him in the eye. "Either you kiss me or you don't, don't be such a wuss."

Draco chuckled at her words, he brushed away untamed curls from her face before deciding to speak. "But I like teasing you, seeing how desperate you are for me to touch you." Hermione blushed but didn't say anything. She had merely turned her head the other way to avoid the intensity in his silver pools when he grabbed her chin and forced to look at him softly. "I like it when you squirm under me," sentence after sentence of pure seduction rolled off his tongue while he kept his gaze intact with the witch beneath him. "I like when you beg me to kiss you, that's the second time happening today, too." Draco's gaze was dark when he looked at Hermione's neck, he dipped his head and flicked his tongue over the point where here shoulder met her skin— she was the softest there, he'd come to realize after all their moments together. "And I absolutely _love_ it when we kiss, so why deny that, hmm?" he hadn't moved from her skin, head still dipped and mouth still breathing on her skin, fanning the sensitive spot ever so repeatedly.

"You're such a prick," Hermione commented closing her eyes when Draco moved up to north her body, pressing feather-like kisses up her throat.

"Don't act like you don't love it." his voice was cocky, as per usual. Hermione didn't want to give him the satisfaction of the admitting it but she gave herself away the next moment when a throaty moan escaped from the back of her mouth just when Draco bit her earlobe.

They laid there, on her bed, talking about their lives as if they had been fast friends all their lives. With their fingers laced together, Hermione's curls sprawled wildly across the silk pillowcases and Draco's heart thumping loudly with every passing minute as to what he was doing with someone like Granger, kissing her and having an actual genuine conversations with her without being at each other's throats; forgetting little by little about his prejudices day by day, he couldn't help but think two things: one, how good it felt to be confided in and to confide in someone— telling them their burdens for the day and what was on their mind, to be simply talked to, to vent out his emotions to someone, to be simply accepted for who he was, was a bigger blessing than he had believed in the past.

And two, how long would it last. How long will the pretend to ignore the chemistry between them, playing dumb or just simply refusing to talk about it.

This was all so new to him— Draco wasn't the type of person who stuck around for the aftermath, much referred to as the walk of shame, once he had used a girl for his sexual desires, no, that just wasn't him. He loved a good shag, of course he did, but being around in the morning when the girl would wake up and confront her about her own feelings was something he didn't like; but Granger, dear lord, made him think everything about his life again. In only roughly two months, she had made him question everything in his life— all that he had done, why he had done and the consequences of all his actions. She hadn't talked to him about it no, her mere presence was enough of a reminder for the boy to think everything in his life over. That was Hermione Granger for everyone, making people second guess themselves for the better just by her mere presence.

Draco shook his head clear when he made out Hermione's mouth was moving. "Sorry what?" his cheeks were pink, slightly embarrassed.

Hermione laughed as she loved from positioning her head on his bicep to his chest, tracing mindless patterns on the fabric of his white school shirt, neither of them had the time to wait when they had walked into the dorm hours ago. It looked like as if all they wanted to do was lie down and hold hands like a sappy teenage couple. "I said what are you thinking? You seem lost."

Draco contemplated the reaction she'd give off his words in his head. Deciding against telling her, he simply shifted the topic to her, oh how smooth it was for him, actual child's play. "You never told me about the stupid kiss cam, now seems like a good time." If Hermione had wanted to say something, she didn't. Instead, she hid her face in her hands, seemingly embarrassed.

"Oh come on Granger, I'm sure we are past the stages of embarrassment." Draco rolled his eyes, failing to keep the smile from invading his features. Thank Merlin Hermione still had her eyes covered, he wouldn't want to be pegged _lovey dovey, _after all.

"Well," Hermione started, much to his surprise. He hadn't thought she'd answer him, in all honesty. It was merely a ploy for him to get out of the current situation he was in, as to what he was thinking. "Ginny came up with the idea to have a kiss cam that day during the game," she waited for his response, looking up at him and then, softly thumping back her head against his chest, Draco's arm came automatically around her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed his nose in her toffee curls, inhaling the deep smell of cinnamon and roses, all at once and then, little by little.

_Heavenly_, Draco wondered.

"Weaselette came up with the idea to seal my fate in Azkaban for this? How dare she give me a reason to kill her? This is ridiculous, if I had wanted to kill her I'd have long ago, I simply refuse to touch something ginger and poor." Hermione gave him a straight face, she looked made, even.

Shit, Draco thought, maybe I shouldn't have said that, the truth always does hurt, though.

"First of all," Fuck, she had a whole list, Draco sighed. "Her name is Ginny. Second of all—"

"She Weasel?" Draco interrupted, genuinely confused. "Potter's side _chick_?"

_Wrong move,_ Draco registered in his mind, the witch before him looked about ready to throw a punch at his pretty face, mind you, _again_.

"For the last time," she hissed at him, banging his chest with a small fist, "Her name is Ginny and I'd appreciate it if you could call her that. She is my friend. How would you feel if I called your friends with snarky names?" Hermione realized her mistake the moment the words flew out of her mouth. She waited for the blow; for him to yell at her and throw a fit for crossing a boundary he had isolated himself to. For a moment or two, neither one of them spoke. After the silence reached the epitome of being awkward, Hermione felt Draco brush his fingertips against her cheek, lightly grazing the soft skin with the pad of his thumb, Hermione sighed, "I called you many names before—" He paused, cupped her face in his hands, "All this," was all he supplied. "Besides, you are the closest thing I have to a friend."

His words left Hermione's throat in a knot. She decided to get an answer for the last part of his statement rather than both, "Why not a friend? Why the closest thing to a friend?" She pushed her luck with her words, "Why don't you consider me your friend, Draco? I will happily listen to all your troubles and make sure that—"

"How naïve are you, Hermione? I know you, being the nice Gryffindor you are, will always listen to my bullshit and push me towards the light. That much I have always known, since our first year, really. No matter what I have put you through, the bullying, tormenting, name calling, watching you get tortured by my crazy aunt," His fingers grazed the scrawny skin on her left arm, the insult carved right into her skin. Hermione didn't realize when she had inhaled a sharp breath causing the pale boy by her body to shudder. "I know you would still be here when I wake up in the morning, ready to welcome me with a bright annoying smile that makes me want to throw up, I mean, only a Gryffindor would do that; grinning like an annoying person at five in the fucking morning," His pathetic attempt to lighten the mood didn't go in vain, Hermione chuckled a little, her mind a little at ease now, "Sounds like something I'd do." She admitted before welcoming the inevitable silence. The odd pair switched their eyes from each other to the ceiling, as if there was nothing more interesting than looking at some stones nestled up above their heads.

"I don't consider you my friend, Granger." Hermione resisted the urge to tell him how they had settled on first name basis for her just a few days back when they had shared a bed. The statement, however, made her feel like crap. One would think he would start considering her his friend after the time they had spent together but no, she reminded herself that Draco had walls built around him, like a chamber he had isolated himself to, it was going to be harder than this, it would take longer than this to break them and pull the kid inside from the darkness and into the brilliant lights the world had to offer.

"Granger, stop overthinking things," Draco spoke, twirling a long lock of her hair in between his fingers. He had grown the love the soft texture of her hair when he took his time playing with it. He'd do it when they'd study together, lie down like this next to each other or just simply converse. "If I don't consider you my friend, there must be a reason to it," He didn't meet her gaze, simply stretching his limbs and getting up. He yawned, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. Hermione couldn't help but look at the exposed skin on his stomach when his wrinkled shirt slightly lifted. Upon looking at Draco, she realized that he was smirking at her— he had caught her red-handed. Draco walked up to her embarrassed figure, he bent down ever so little and gently grasped her chin in his hand; meeting her warm eyes with his silver ones.

"Now you realize why I don't consider you my friend, Hermione?" She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. So she just sat there, her hands folded in her lap as she looked at the Slytherin Prince with big doe-like eyes. "And they call you the brightest witch of our age," He teased her when her cheeks flushed a little redder.

When Hermione didn't retort, he crouched down to meet her at eye level, still not letting go of her chin. "I can't seem to stay away from you, Granger." Hermione looked at him in bafflement. "You and I can either be friends," He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss to which, she instantly responded, biting his bottom lip to earn a groan from him. Draco's hand traveled up under her shirt, softly grazing her skin before touching her breast just a little. Hermione groaned at the action, further even when he pulled his hand out of her shirt.

"Or we can be lovers. There is no in between." He gestured to her shirt and then his hand. Hermione got it in a second. The urgency she had responded with was not what friends did, friends didn't kiss each other and certainly didn't let each other touch their skin under their clothes. "And this is exactly why we can't be friends, baby." He shocked her not only by saying that nickname but kissing her forehead softly before walking out her door.

He had left her with a cold bed and a lot to think about, but then again, this was Draco Malfoy she was talking about. Of course he would have an ultimatum, Hermione had thought of that at some point, too.

_Friends or lovers huh_, she wondered, touching two fingers to her lips where he had kissed her moments ago.

The answer was pretty clear to her.

For the moment, she did not want to worry about what anyone would say or what her friends would say. This was about her and her feelings, she reminded herself. Hermione closed her eyes and murmured a faint _lovers_, testing the word on her lips and enjoying the way it rolled off her tongue. It was foreign and exquisite, something she had never felt in her brief time together with Ron.

But she was also afraid that things were moving too fast and that someone would find out about them and their secret relationship. Several similar things haunted her until she gave up and ran outside the room, her heart even more of a mess than her panting self. She threw herself at Draco who was intently immersed in a thick book on Transfigurations.

_Bastard, he tells me to not worry for the exam and himself is studying._ Hermione huffed but ignored it.

Upon seeing her walk in, Draco tried to hide the book but she beat him to it, throwing her arms around him and causing the book to drop to their feet. Draco was startled, even lost his footing but steadied himself against the Gryffindor witch who clung to him for dear life. "Hermione, are you alright?" She didn't answer, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she stood on her tiptoes to match his height even a bit. The last thing she remembered before kissing his swollen lips was muttering, "Yes to the lovers bit."

**A/N: So basically this is a lot of talking and heart to heart because I wanted to show that their relationship is not based off only on physical intimacy and that emotional vulnerability is equally important here, maybe even more. I wanted to show them opening up to each other so yeah, 4k words for all that because hey, it's important. Please tell me how you liked this chapter, I have been neglecting my summer homework because of this. (cut me some slack)**

**If you have any questions, feel free to private message me or comment here. Leave a vote if you liked it and a review if you well, read this. There is always room for improvement! I am not setting a vote goal for this chapter because I don't know how it turned out for everyone, just vote if you think it deserves one.**


	13. 13 Revolting

Things had fallen back into their usual cycle soon enough. While exams had drained the student body as a whole, the Christmas break still managed to serve as a silver lining to the whole ordeal. Their last exam had been on Divination, something that Draco and Hermione both despised with equal distaste, not only was it utterly boring but also completely meaningless. Hermione didn't know why she'd feel the need in her near future to predict her life through supernatural means, it really was ridiculous.

So, when Draco walked into the their head dorm with his eyes half closed and his green tie dangling from his neck, the last thing he expected was his exclusive girlfriend to tackle him into a hug followed by several kisses being pressed to his cheeks and then his lips. With a yelp, Draco's eyes snapped open, all of his earlier tiredness seemed to be swept under the rug as he wrapped his arms around the petite girl who was grinning down at him like there was no tomorrow.

"Granger, I know that you're excited to see me but this is absolutely _barbaric_." Draco shifted a little, straightening his stiff back against the stone floor. Hermione was still straddling him, his hands rested on her hip bone while she pressed her palms flat against his chest.

"Oh don't be such a bore," she rolled her eyes though she didn't let the playful smile slide off her face. "I can't believe exams are over. That I made through my midterm in one piece." she sighed, without a care in the world that she was on top of Draco right by the main door. Anybody could walk in any moment and catch them then and there. Hermione seemed to be talking to herself now, her hands clasped, "It was maddening! I feel so drained—"

"Are you sure? You're looking quite enthusiastic to me." he interrupted, grasping her small waist in his hands and steadying her up on her feet, soon followed by himself. He brushed off his school robes and ran a dismissive hand through his hair.

"Are you joking? I am absolutely drained, it feels like my mind is sent into overdrive. I have heaps of stuff right in here and it's driving me crazy," She pointed a finger at her brain which made Draco chuckle. It was exciting to see this new side of her, rambling and loud. She always came off uptight and boring to everyone, he was glad she was opening up to him in her own unique way.

"—I hope I did my absolute best in this stupid exam, ugh! You know how much I hate Divination." and she was talking again, just like that. Absent-mindedly, she rested a finger under her chin as if she were in deep thought. "But I do suppose I could score less than usual, I mean this is Divination, my most dreaded subject! Can you imagine— why are you smiling at me?" Hermione was casting a glance down at her boyfriend's body, his grey eyes filled with mirth and utter amusement.

Hermione frowned when he didn't say anything right away. "Just checking what the world has come down to, Hermione Granger actually being relieved at the prospect of examination being over. I don't know about you but that doesn't settle well for me." he smirked at her, though lazily, Hermione still found it charming.

"I can be absolutely happy at the prospect of our exams ending," she crossed her arms and stuck her nose high, "But seriously though," Her expression shifted from a frown to utter seriousness. "What if I don't do well on th—"

"Merlin's hairy rod! Calm down Granger!" He grasped her by the shoulders immediately making her stop rambling. A small smile made its way to his face for no apparent reason. She looked like a child who had been scolded for being to loud at a posh dinner party, Draco vaguely remembered himself making the exact same face when his mother had scolded him for being too naughty at a party she had thrown for all the pureblood families in Britain, he remembered crying himself to sleep while the party carried on in full motion, his mother never came to check up on him.

Burying the memory deep in his heart, he brushed a few curly strands of her hair away from her face, not before twirling the wild but somehow still soft material in between his thumb and index finger. "Calm down," he repeated, this time more to himself than to her. Draco stuck his forehead next to hers, feeling the sensation of her soft breathing on his skin and the way her eyes bore into his.

"Are you feeling okay?" Hermione was serious now, her earlier enthusiasm had drained away. She leaned forward to kiss his lips softly, merely a brief gesture to show affection, to show her appreciation for him, to show that she cared, that she was here for him.

Draco didn't respond to the kiss, only closed his eyes like a still statue. He hadn't realised when he had been sucked into his past, the revolting memories flashing right before his eyes.

But it had gone as soon as it had come.

"Just a little tired," True to his words, he yawned, stifling it with a hand to his mouth.

Hermione did see him put in a lot of effort for all his exams though, if not only for this last one. He had been up most of the nights with her as they studied together (occasionally stealing kisses here and there after their little saga the other night) Hermione had taken great notice of the fact that he was determined to prove himself this time, prove that he belonged here and that it wasn't a gruesome mistake to let him back into Hogwarts for his eighth year. Several times, Hermione had given up before him, going to bed earlier than him who didn't ever sleep. Draco's routine was more like studying to his absolute breaking point with the aid of several doses of caffeine, giving the exam in the morning and falling asleep once it was over. The moment he'd come back from the exam room, he'd crash into the comfortable sofa they had in their little living room. He didn't even have the energy to change his uniform, let alone walk to his bedroom. Hermione had often found himself in the same position several times, she had taken up the duty to levitate his body back to his room before taking his shirt off and pulling the blanket over his pale body, well, not before sneaking a bashful look at his appealing torso, of course.

Needless to say, he slept like a baby all day before waking up in the night like an owl, following the same routine until now.

Now, exams were over and Christmas break started from tomorrow.

"You indeed have messed up your routine pretty bad," Hermione agreed.

Draco wiped a hand down his face, as if he was trying very hard to keep his eyes open. The purple/blue brusises under his eyes indicated his apprehension of little to no sleep.

"Sleep with me?" if he wasn't so tired and his eyes weren't almost closed, Hermione would've blushed a crimson red at those words. They stood outside his bedroom with Draco stretching his hand in her direction. She looked down at his hand and then up at his tired but handsome face.

Soon, Hermione found herself smiling as she placed her hand in his, it fit like a key in its particular lock, almost as if it were made to accommodate his hand. "Yes."

Still in his uniform, Hermione took the liberty to rid off his tie and then his shirt. Draco fell face first on the soft bed, pulling Hermione down by her wrist, earning a low grunt from her. He absent-mindedly patted her busy mane and put his chin on top of her head, just when Hermione snuggled closer into his body with her back facing his front.

It took him mere minutes to fall asleep, Hermione noted. She turned a little to see his face— so pure and innocent, almost angelic, dare she say it. She pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, wishing to forever cease this moment where she was wrapped in his arms without a care in the world.

She closed her eyes briefly, making a mental note to walk out once Draco had slept.

**_**

Draco woke up sometime around 4 in the afternoon, after having slept almost six hours. While he felt genuinely well tested, something made his mood tiresome.

And then, as if thunder had struck, he realised.

_I'm famished. _

Sliping on a simple white v-neck, he trudged his way towards the door, griping the walls softly as he made his way towards the door.

Strange, Draco wondered, _why does my body feel so weak after having slept for so long?_ His legs visibly shook, not supporting his body weight at all.

And it was only then that Hermione decided to waltz in, beaming at his still somewhat sleepy figure until she took the sight of him before her eyes. He was on all fours, gasping for air to enter his lungs, whatever Hermione had in her hand was thrown away with a loud bang and she was pacing towards his frail body. Draco's head had been bent down so he didn't see Hermione until she was next to him, picking up his body as he continued to wince in agony. His joints hurt and it felt like his skin was pickling, as if it had been whipped for days and days long.

"Draco! What's- what's happening to you?" the witch all but screamed, her heart pounding against her ribcage by now, a light sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Draco only continued to wince rather than saying someing, his eyes closed and his face twisted into a painful expression which pained Hermione even more than when she had walked in on him.

She didn't know if Draco had any disabilities, was this asthma? Arthritis? An anxiety or panic attack? Or something even worse? She had never considered the possibly of him having any of the things she had just thought of, mainly because he had never given anyone a reason to— he had been on the Quidditch team for slytherin back in second year, being seeker meant immensely strong bones and a tremendous respiratory system, that's out the arthritis and asthma out of the way which only led her to believe that this could be a panic or anxiety attack as a result of the Wizarding revolutionary War just a few months ago in May, it was possible that his actions were haunting him now, badly.

"Draco—" she pleaded, her eyes ready to water now, "What happened? How do I help you—" she choked on a sob as she lolled his head into her lap, he was down on the floor now, stomach up, clutching his left forearm in pain, eyes screwed shut. Hermione didn't notice this, her sole focus on his face.

It seemed like hours passed away when she heard him breathe contently, eyes easing up and momentarily fluttering open. She didn't know what else to do expect hope that whatever this was, went away as soon as possible. It was like her brain had refused to cooperate with her actions— stiff and still, nothing at all.

So, Hermione Granger sat there, cradling her boyfriend's head in her lap as he struggled to breathe, to utter a word or move even a mere inch. His lips parted and a single drop of her tear fell on his lips, she had been crying, when, she didn't realise. It took every ounce of his somewhat remaining energy to stretch out a pale hand to her cheek, cupping the wet skin in his sweaty hands. The pain seemed to leave the body slowly at first, then, all at once— he felt it draining from his head, to his chest, down his abdomen and then finally, reaching his feet.

It was like as if it had never happened.

"I'm alright Hermione," he inhaled deeply, Hermione's eyes shot open at the familiar silky voice, she looked up to meet his body sitting right next to her own, a ghost of a frown on his face. It took a moment for Hermione to realise that he was still here, that she hadn't lost him, that he was right next to her, it was slow but gradual. When she finally caught on the fact, she threw her arms around the pale boy, her grip was iron-like, strong and powerful, it was different from all the tiles they had hugged or even touched, it showed want, it showed desire, it showed fear, just like it showed,

Dare he assume,

_Love_.

"I thought I lost you-" she was shuddering, her body was shaking against his own, even her lips quivered when she put them next to his ear. "I— I've never, ever been more-- scared in my li—"

"I'm right here, I'm right here," he repeated in her ear, this wasn't about him anymore, it was about her. The way her shoulders shook violently when he ran a finger down her spine as an attempt to sooth her, only confirmed how scared she had been moments ago.

"It's alright," he didn't know who he was telling this to, Hermione or himself. Never had he experienced something so violent like _that_. Sure, he had had his fair share of nightmares and traumatic episodes after the war but nothing had managed to make him absolutely fall to his knees, it had never been this bad.

"Hey, I'm alright, I'm right here," he pushed her soft curls behind her ears as an attempt to sooth her through some form of physical contact, in responses, she let a single tear slide down her cheek before looking at him again right in his slate colored eyes. Hermione took her time to look up at him again properly, she nodded once before touching her fingers to his cheeks and then his lips, as if she was determining that he _really_ was here, right next to her.

"What happ—" but she never got to finish the sentence, Draco had lalressy leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips once, as if relishing the gift of being another life. It was as it a new soul had been breathed into his body. Hermione didn't respond, she was too shocked to do anything properly at the time. All she did, was open her mouth and then close it again, pressing an open mouthed kiss right on his lips, it was an intimate gesture, never had she done something similar to this, it spoke volumes on how kisses and snogging wasn't the only thing she expected from their exclusive relationship.

No, she expected them to be emotionally vulnerable— to share their feelings through words and gestures, gestures as such which seemed tiny to the public eye but still spoke volumes on their part together, on their mutual binding to each other.

"How do you," she started, Draco wiped his thumbs on either sides of her cheeks, rinsing off any residue of the pain she had felt because of him. "How do you feel?" she croaked, her fingers tangled with his own and he couldn't help but admire how perfect it felt, hand fitting in hand, like it was made for him by the grace of Merlin himself.

"I feel as good as before, actually," he murmured, catching her eye and maneuvering her up on her feet to prove his point. Hermione stood up, refusing to let go of his forearm which she still clutched onto. "I don't know what happened to me, I was waking up moment, walking down to the door and then, the next, I'm on the floor like I'm about to fucking di—"

"Don't finish that," Hermione put her hands on her mouth, though her heartbeat had returned to normal, she didn't quite know if the storm in her heart had subsidized. Why was she feeling this way? She didn't know, not yet, at least. The idea of Draco dying wouldn't have had an impact on her life before, maybe a little considering that she cared too much for people for her own good, but now, the tables had turned, she had found herself to be drawn to the boy who had let the Voldemort's army into the school. Now, however, the concept of Draco dying made her want to scream, it made her want to cry and throw a tantrum, it was odd, she noted on that minute how much they both had come along together, how her feelings for him had changed, how much he had grown to care for him, to cherish him.

To _love_ him.

Hermione let out an inaudible gasp at the thought of her loving someone like him, Draco Malfoy in particular. She quickly buried it at the back of her mind.

"You mean too much to me now." she chose her words, catching the ghost of confusion in his eyes, "I don't think I'd want you to die Draco." she took a tentative step closer to him, breathing in his peppermint scent, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. "Seeing you like that, I-" her chest tightened, "I thought I lost you."

_I lost you, was what she said._

_I can't imagine losing you now, not after all I feel for you, was what she wanted to tell him. _

Seeing someone you love suffer so painfully right in front of your eyes served as a reminder of one's true feelings, what they mean to you and what you feel about them.

The answer was about obvious to Hermione, when she had seen Draco like that on the floor, gasping for air and looking like he was fighting his last battle with the angel of death made Hermione realise how much deeper she felt for Draco than she let on, how much she had grown to feel over the time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked hesitantly.

Draco pulled her by the hand and made her sit down on the bed, he looked at her and it didn't take long to give in to her, the way she was looking at him, it was impossible to tell her no.

"I'm not very good with words Hermione, you know that." he sighed deeply.

"Try, please." the Gryffindor in her encouraged him, giving a worrisome look.

Draco seemed to be at a loss of words, he didn't know how to tell her something he himself had no idea of. "I don't know what happened to me— but my lungs felt like they were contracting and that— that I-" he looked into her warm eyes, melting little by little but for sure.

"I thought I wouldn't make it." he left out a major details, hoping that she wouldn't pester on it, he was hoping she would give the benefit of the doubt due to his lacking of communicational abilities.

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital wing?" her eyes looked tired, she looked tired. The shock of it had perhaps subsidised, but the aftermath still awaited.

"No, I'm alright." he brushed off. When Hermione didn't look away he sighed and picked up her hand in his. He bent down to kiss the pad of her thumb and then move to her wrist, up the crook of her elbow, relishing her soft and inaudible moans, he reached the blade of her shoulder and then, the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck, up his lips went to the column of her throat, resting briefly on her chin before claiming her lips in a chaste kiss.

"Yes." she looked unconvinced (and also incredibly sexy when she wore a frown, Draco noted) but decided to drop it for the time being. Knowing her, she'd probably conduct a thorough search on it afterwards.

While Hermione seemed calm to him as she laid down on his bed, utterly exhausted from the events of today, he knew he had made he'd worried sick, no amount of apologies could make him feel better for making his witch worry that way, he knew. Draco brushed a few strands of her curly hair from her face as she laid down for some minutes, her body had probably given out for the time being due to the exhaustion.

Whilst his fingers worked to sooth down Hermione's hair, his eyes lingered to the ugly death mark on his inner forearm on the left arm.

He knew this was a warning, he knew that things would get worse, they always did.

No matter how hard he tried, no amount of effort was enough to keep trouble at bay to him.

He hadn't mentioned to Hermione that his ugly death mark had burned to the point of extreme pain, ultimately causing him to fall helplessly on the floor like that. The tattoo had burned and burned, reminding him that he was still not free, and that he was still a slave to his darker side, a mere pawn in the game of darkness and evil, black and white.

He traced the horrendous mark with his fingers, feeling the bile rise up to his throat with every inch of skin he covered.

_Next time, it would be much worse,_ Draco told himself.

He laced his fingers with Hermione's and pulled the sleeve of his shirt down, a pathetic attempt to cover for his actions and intentions in the war.

What scared Draco most was not the lingering threat of chaos, but the fact that this time, he didn't have to think about himself only.

Casting a brief glance back at the sleeping girl's figure, he realises that this time, he had to think about her too.

**_**

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	14. 14 A Friend & Lover

**This is not proofread, sorry bros and hoes. **

The dark mark had continued to prickle his pale skin for about a week and a half, four times in eleven days , each time, a stronger wave of pain washing over him than the last one he had just experienced. Luckily for Draco, Hermione was not around during these horrendous episodes— one thing he was absolutely glad about, was McGonagall replacing him with her for her special detours to Diagon Alley, she was gone most of the times when the pain overtook him. It had been only once that Hermione was still in their dorm and he had felt the searing burn shoot up his left forearm, somehow, he had managed to stifle his screams from inside his room by pressing his face into the pillowcase, just so Hermione didn't hear them and got upset from her own bedroom right across his own.

It was after all, Christmas break. Hermione had opted to stay back instead of going off to her Muggle home, Draco knew it was because of her parents, she had erased their memories before the war to protect them. After the Order of the Phoenix had conquered Wizarding lands in all their glory, she had failed to return them their memories.

The only thing Hermione Granger had failed at.

It was sad, to live without knowing about your own child, it was even sadder to not have a home to return to but it was the saddest to pretend that you were okay.

That was Granger, all rough and tough on the outside but a complete emotional roller-coaster on the inside.

Sometimes, he heard her crying during fortnights, alone in her room and refusing any company for the rest of the night. She merely curled into a ball on her bed and sobbed haphazardly. Draco wished there was something he could do for her— he wanted to give her privacy. The phenomenon of grieving for your loved one was something everyone had the right to, in their own different way. He was never good with words, from an early age, he had struggled to voice his thoughts. It all seemed so clear in his head but the moment he tried to open his mouth, ready to let the words flow, a knot formed in his throat, as if constricting him to not only speak but also breathe. Draco remembered several times when he had stood in front of the mirror in his room, watching his tongue roll and his lips part— trying his utter best to form a coherent sentence in his mind and letting it out of his mouth felt like the hardest thing to do to the little boy. It had never been his forte; talking about feelings, whether they be his or someone else's. The same case was here, he couldn't talk to Hermione about her grief because he himself had undergone a significant amount of trauma and stress himself during his earlier days.

He imagined her small frame curled into a ball on her sheets, her shoulders shaking violently as she cried herself to sleep, the salty tears that rolled down her cheeks.

All he could do was, however, sit with his back facing her door and wait for the crying to stop, for her to take a deep breath and give into her demons for the day. Sometimes, it lasted hours, sometimes only a handful amount of minutes until she sighed and went back to sleep. That would be his cue to dust off his clothes as he stood up and disappearing into his room.

Not before muttering a soft _"goodnight" _at the wooden door.

He hoped that someday he would be able to conquer his own demons before helping her with her own, that he could tell her that it was all fine and the he was here, despite of everything, he was here.

_And that he wasn't going to leave her. _

A terrible pain brought him out of little dilemma, somehow he managed to grip his sheets tightly as he waited for it to fade away. Seconds turned into minutes and it felt like at some point, hours too, until the burn finally left him for good.

This time, he had noticed that the terrible mark branded onto his skin glowed a dark black light for a millisecond before retreating.

_What the hell was that? _

Draco often found himself questioning, his body had visibly weekend— every now and then, he lifted his shirt to inspect the remains of it; there were light purple bruises dusting his pale skin right under his ribcage, followed by some around his collarbone.

Draco's scars reminded him of the horrible person he had been before the war. They served as a constant reminder of his betrayal to the school which had been nothing but a second home to him and people, who had, at some point, trusted him and befriended him, maybe if it had been for their own reasons even. A long scar was etched onto his body from his hip bone to the blade of his shoulder and another right across his chest as a result of Potter's sectumsempra in sixth year in the boys' lavatory. Upon further inspection, he noted deep gashes, now healed but still scarred, from his time at the Manor— when the Dark Lord had _prepared_ him to withstand torture and abuse. He had been told that it would make him tolerant of the curses he would be thrown at during the war, he had been told that it will make him strong and pain-resistant.

Nobody told him it would leave a permanent bruise on his heart and soul.

Now wiser than before, Draco couldn't help but think that it was not a mean to make him strong but for the Dark Lord to torture his little useless pawn for fun.

A crucio was no joke, sadly, he was too naive to understand that back when he had been forced to take the mark.

"This too, shall pass." He looked into the standing mirror before him, everything as clear as day. He didn't know when did Hermione come behind him looping her arms around his waist. He had been too busy in contemplation to notice the female figure lurking behind him. Draco didn't turn around. Instead, he looked at Hermione through the mirror before him. A sharp look in her direction and he saw her big die-like eyes gazing back at his form— her hair was wild but Draco had grown to love it as it was, it was more natural and made her look so beautiful.

And the best part was that she wasn't even aware of it, yet.

"You look beautiful, Granger." And now she was.

Hermione blushed at his words but didn't remove her arms from around him. Her fingers played with the the fibers of his thin grey shirt, grazing her fingernails along his skin. A small smile graced her lips. Draco saw her stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss just below his earlobe from behind. She moved her lips skilfully down to the side of his neck and then, took their time nipping at his collarbone, giving him crimson love-bites on his pale skin, marking her way on his body. "You look so beautiful Granger." he repeated, closing his eyes for a moment only to reopen them seconds later, a familiar fire blazing in his eyes.

_Lust_.

It happened like lightning— he whisked her around a complete 180 degree so she came face to face with him. Before her mind could conjure up a single coherent thought he had already pinned her to the bed, the mattress dipping at the weight of the two bodies pressed together atop. Hermione voiced a throaty moan when Draco bit down her bottom lip, he sucked the skin in between his teeth leaving little to nothing to one's imagination when it came to ecstasy and madness. One hand held her arms up above whilst the other worked its way under her shirt, leaving gentle marks as he teased his nails against her smootv flesh. The Slytherin grazed a single finger on her navel earning a sharp inhale from her side— it was only then that instead of going up north to her chest, he smirked down at her.

Upon seeing Hermione in shorts, he had in mind to take full advantage of the situation.

His dark gaze flickered over to the beautiful witch under him. Bending down, Draco pressed an open mouth kiss to her skin before biting down her bottom lip again. Hermione's expression was a mixture of confusion and exhilaration, she didn't know what was Draco doing with those expert fingers of his but she liked the way they performed a waltz against her skin.

"My, my, my, don't you look excited?" he murmured in a low husky voice in, his lips touching her earshell. He hadn't let her hands go, somehow, that only made Hermione's heart pound even faster. She didn't dare say anything, only letting the cool December air hit her face, hoping that it would sooth down all the nerves she had bundled inside of her, ticking like a time bomb, ready to explode any minute now.

Draco began tracing circles on the skin of her inner thigh, his fingers danced their way across her smooth skin in a resplendent motion, earning a low grunt of approval from the witch tangled with his limbs. As his fingers cascaded up towards her abdoben, nearer and nearer, inch by inch— Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face down, meeting him halfway for a charismatic kiss, lips covers lips, tongue coaxing tongue, it was then that Draco realized that his feelings for Hermione Granger weren't a mere crush anymore, it was etching slowly but surely, towards something much more longer term.

The pad of his thumb skimmed her skin at the thighs, eliciting goosebumps on her skin. Hermione's three back her head as she certainly parted her lips with the pale boy before her. Her eyes fluttered close in ecstasy when she felt Draco rub his thumb's pad smoothly over her lower abdomen. It was maddening, to think that she would feel this way by none other than Draco Malfoy himself, her arch nemesis, her bully, her tormentor for seven years, now— she knew that he was a changed person, maybe not fully but he was getting there.

After all, it took years and years to unlearn all the things you were told to be sorry about.

"Hermione, we should—" His words pulled her out of her reverie, his skillful fingers stopping at her waist. "I should stop," While his mind told him to take her then and there, his heart knew that it wasn't how he had imagined their first explicit moment to be like, he had given it a lot of thought and this didn't even come near that.

Hermione frowned slightly as his fingers slid up her waist but then shook her head. It was for the best, she told herself. Neither of them was ready for such a big thing yet, and that was okay. She didn't want to rush into anything too much that won't only leave her embarrassed but may even take Draco away from her.

The thought of losing him terrified her. It made her sick to her stomach. That day when she had walked in on him lying on the ground and clutching his chest with eyes screwed shut— a wave of panic and dread had washed over her like a tsunami, nearly knocking her off of her feet.

It made her terrified as hell but the more she denied it, the more it haunted her mind.

_She was falling in love with Draco Malfoy._

_No I'm not,_ she told herself, unaware of a pair of slate great eyes watching her contemplating.

_Yes you are, denial is the first stage of acceptance after all._ Her subconscious had picked the wrong time to speak to her— Draco was right beside her, absent-mindedly playing with her toffee curls, twirling them in between his fingers and pressing them to his lips. It was oddly comforting, not to mention, would've been borderline creepy if she didn't feel the same way about him.

_Just accept it, you're falling in love with him, why is it so hard for you to accept the truth?_ She glanced to her right, seeing Draco with a sly smile on his lips, he looked breathtaking, Hermione confirmed. His hair had grown an inch or so longer over the time, falling into his eyes like a golden waterfall, sleek and shiny. She ran her fingers through his hair and pushed them away, only to find herself gazing into his slate grey eyes, she loved the beautiful color of them— never had she ever seen such a mesmerizing color in her life. His eyes were the single most important part of him that fascinated her the most.

Everyone had green, blue or brown eyes— never had she seen clear steel grey eyes as Draco's.

"No, I am not!" Hermione all but shouted suddenly sitting up. One glance at Draco and she was glad that she didn't say the word. It was only when she felt a tug on wrist that she calmed down and feel back on the bed, her curls sprawling all over the place in one fluid motion.

"Sorry about that." she glanced at Draco who had arched an eyebrow at her.

"What was all that about?" Draco's voice was confused. Hermione sighed and kissed his lips softly, an attempt to sooth herself. She bent her head over, slightly slumping against his chest as her fingers latched onto his shirt, holding herself.

"Nothing," she dismissed.

She shifted a little closer to him. "I've been meaning to ask you something." she looked shy, or so said her eyes that looked everywhere except for him.

"Shoot," he made a finger guns and Hermione looked at him disapprovingly. If she wanted to say something about that, she didn't.

"Do you still feel the burn? From the Kiss cam?" at those words, Draco touched two fingers to his lips, thinking.

While Hermione fawned over how sexy the mere gesture looked, Draco asked himself, _do I feel it?_ To be honest, he hadn't thought of the kiss cam much since Granger and him had started kissing more than usual— and not just to keep the pain at bay.

"Well, do you?" she asked again, her eyes confused.

Draco tucked a single stand of hair behind her ear, "No, I don't. Not anymore."

It was then, that Hermione threw her arms around his neck, burning her face in the crook of his neck. He didn't know why she did it but he didn't question it.

"I don't feel it either, it has been a long time since it happened after all." she muttered into his neck.

"Why did you stop doing that?" she mentioned to his earlier actions on her skin, surprising them both with that question. Hermione's eyes slightly widened while Draco's lips twitched into a grin. He tucked a start curl behind her ear.

"Whatever you're talking about, _dear girlfriend."_ he drawled, sarcasm laced to his icy voice. Hermione's cheeks flushed pink at the name he had used for her. While she had said yes to being exclusive lovers on his part that day, the physical reality was still something new to get used to. It had been the first time he had called her that, sarcastic or not, it was the first time. It only dawned upon her then that Draco Malfoy, indeed was her exclusive boyfriend.

_Oh how the tables had turned._

"I mean why did you stop— oh my god, please don't make me say it." a furious blush covered her face. She covered her flaming cheeks with her hands which made Draco sputter a laugh. Curling his lips in a grin, he carefully removed her hands from her face, opening them like a pair of closed French doors to a balcony and pressing his lips to hers. It was unlike all the kisses they had shared before; it wasn't fervent or fierce, it was slow and sensual. Their tongues never met, only lips moving against lips. Open mouth kisses were pressed to her cheeks as Draco clasped her hands in his, then her button nose, her closed eyes, her chin and then, down the column of her throat.

Hermione let out a content sigh.

"Tell me what you're thinking." She wasn't expecting him to say that, but then again, everything about him was always unexpected.

Instead of beating around the bush, she decided to answer him, "What aren't you telling me?" by now, she was in his lap, both legs starling either sides of his waste. She roll the liberty to lace her fingers through his. "About whatever happened to you that day?"

Draco's body immediately stiffened. This didn't go unnoticed by the Gryffindor. If anything, it just confirmed her suspicions about something being very wrong. "Nothing at all," Draco was calm and collected the very next moment as if he hadn't just frozen mere seconds ago. "I'm not hiding anything from you, I have no reason to." His words were comforting to hear but at the same time, oddly unsatisfying. If it weren't for his calm expression, Hermione's would've called him a liar then and there.

Her brown eyes narrowed at him. "Are you sure? I heard you screaming some days ago I—" she stopped, realised her mistake and immediately screwed her eyes shut. She bit down on her bottom lip as if trying to suppress a scolding to her own self.

She hadn't meant to pry into his business, _it was an honest mistake,_ she told herself.

But deep down, she knew that she was worried and was actually checking up on him, making sure that he was okay.

"When?" his voice was hard and he wasn't meeting her eyes.

Hermione's heart sank.

"Uh, the day before yesterday, I'm sorry." she automatically told him, eyeing his hand lying next to her. Her heart told her to lace her fingers through his but a sensible part of her told her to give him some time to absorb what she had told him.

"Draco?" she gulped inaudibly, "Say something?" she made a show of holding his hand but the moment she did, he stood up.

"I'm alright," His colour went paler than usual, Hermione noted. Looking down at his knuckles, clench fists displaying white all around. "It's alright," He spoke softly after a minute's pause. He looked down at her sitting figure on the bed and let out a content sigh. He bent down on his knees, loosing the top button of his shirt just to let some air in, it was getting oddly hot inside the room— or was it just him?

"Are you mad at me?"

He regarded her with an expression she couldn't quite put a finger on. "No."

Hermione decided not to push it. Maybe another time, but not now.

"You know I'll be here to listen if you want to talk, right?" Hermione's smile made his heart clench. It only made him feel even shittier considering that he was lying staright to her face.

_You're not fine, nor are you ever going to tell her about it. _

"Yes, I know." he said timidlyband let out a heavy sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he said his next words. "But I want you to promise me something, Grang— Hermione."

Hermione's eyes softened. "Yes?" she ran a soothing finger down the side of his face, her fingernails grazing his blanched skin, it was momentary relief.

With a sudden movement, he pinned her arms to his chest, encircling her wrists in his hands.

"The next time you hear me scream, just walk away. You don't deserve to hear those horrible sounds." Draco muttered, gazing into her confused eyes. "Besides, it's only fair that I hear my own screams after what you went through at the Manor and I didn't do anything to prevent it. It serves me right for the torture I put you through."

Whatever Hermionebwas expecting him to say, surely wasn't _that_. Her eyes watered for a fraction of a second before she wiped them at the corners. "I—"

"And don't you dare tell me it wasn't my fault because it fucking was. Maybe I didn't fancy you back then—" Hermione let her shock show, her eyes widening even more, "But it was still very cowardly and inhumane of me to do so,"

A deafening pause, and then.

"You fancy me?" she couldn't help but make an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Was that all you got from it?" Draco scoffed at her. As if to prove his point, he leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. "Wouldn't have done that if I didn't fancy you Granger, now, would I?" His gaze was terrifying but at the same time, so hot. "Or this," As on cue, he leaned forward again but instead of kissing her, he harshly shoved his hands up her loose shirt, groping her breasts, he had come to realise that she was more Tha okay with that thought. Hermione's eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets any moment now, she let out a low moan. "Or this?" he asked almost teasingly, his fingers playing with the clasp of her bra, fidgeting with the hook on purpose— his fingers went down to her breasts, to her waist and then down to her lower abdomen, he rubbed his thumb across her clothed skin, enjoying the way she reacted so repulsive at the mere motion.

He pulled his hand away, looking at the girl before him with a mixture of lust and affection.

Pressing one last kiss to her lips, he pulled back just a little to brush his lips against hers whilst still looking at her in the eyes. "Do you see now, Granger?"

Hermione couldn't even speak. Her throat had been tied in a thick knot.

"Because surely, friends don't know how you taste, Hermione." Eager to prove himself, he kissed her again, an unfamiliar frenzy shuddered through her body as she pulled the boy before her even closer, she pulled his shirt above his head in one graceful stride that even made Draco shocked.

"Hermione, I don't think we—" Draco was talking but Hermione was already on top of him, she pulled her own shirt over her head, leaving her in a nude bra, the only thing on her body waist above was a simple chain dangling from her neck, a silver crescent for a pendant.

"Oh don't be such a pussy," she giggled at her own words and then at Draco, who was regarding her with clear shock, presumably at her choice of words. "Relax, nothing else comes off and nothing else comes on." she didn't know who this version of her was but she quite liked it, it wasn't her usual careful self, she was rather bold and carefree now, maybe if it was for even a few hours.

"Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend, you evil witch?" Draco faked shock and Hermione grinned down at his pale figure.

"Oh and by the way," she paused mere inches away from his lips, "It's not your fault you were the nephew to a crazy woman who just escaped Azkaban, you did what you had to." she smiled dryly at him, "Besides, I'm a strong girl, which reminds me, I'm not going any easy on you just because you're a little blond princess." It was evident she was trying to lighten the mood and maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what the both wanted right now.

"Are you just going to talk or are you going to kiss me?" He played along, knowing that if not today, maybe some other, he had to tell her, or someome about what was happening to him, ignorance was indeed a bliss, even if only momentary.

Hermione dipped her head, capturing his lips with her own— hoping that one day, she would be able to crack down his walls and let him see her for what she truly was.

A friend to the soul, and a lover to the heart.

**_**

**I hope you don't think that all they ever do is snog because eh, that's not about it ALL. I leave clues, are you smart enough to pick them up? ;) drop in a theory as to what do you think is going on with Draco.**

**On the other hand, hey, love you all, thanks for all the support and reviews, never thought I'd get this far and get this much support— love you all very dearly.**

**Drop a vote if you liked it and a review**


	15. 15 Returning to the Manor (part one)

**_(mild scenarios of self harm ahead; please skip the part marked * if you're uncomfortable)_**

For the first time in seven long months, the thought of his mother flashed in his mind. For the first time since, the great battle of Hogwarts, his mind had drifted to his mother.

Draco had not heard from her ever since.

After the war, everyone knew the Malfoys had managed to get away for their support of the Dark Lord. While turning away just when the war had begun, their loyalties hadn't gone unnoticed by the Ministry. While Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to Azkaban for two years, a lot less than what Draco had thought he should have been given, Narcissa and Draco had managed to get away with strict house arrest and probation. If it weren't for McGonagall, Draco would've still been at the Manor, probably rendered mad. She had been the one to come to him, despite all their differences, and had collected Draco from his barbaric house, telling him all about his eighth and last year at Hogwarts. While Narcissa wasn't too pleased with her son attending Hogwarts, McGonagall had taken little to no concern in account; considering that Draco was now eighteen and could make his own decisions.

It was only this thought that made McGonagall somewhat bearable to him. The fact that she had practically rescued him from the hellhole he used to call home when he was younger. The fact that she had saved him (without even knowing it, or maybe she did) from not only his crazy mother but also himself.

He had thought about killing himself many times. The shame of living with his past was always more than pretending everything was going to be alright one day.

False hope was better than the guilt of his actions in the past.

**_*_**

He had come too close to taking his life one day. The shredded glass from the table lamp he had just broken after his mind had had enough— enough of his father's manipulation and Voldemort's pathetic attempts for him to take the ugly death mark.

The glass was too tempting, sharp and crystal clear; almost as if an invisible voice was urging him to take the sharp object and slice it through his skin. He had been close, very close.

The glass was firmly pressed against his wrist. One more thrust and he would have been dead.

That was the thing everything changed for him. When he realized that he had to get out of this hell and out, on his own.

Draco had never admitted the events of that night to himself. It had always been too unbelievable, too pure and at the same time, too frightening.

The moment he had closed his eyes, ready to cut himself, he had seen her.

**_*_**

He had denied it, of course, but that didn't mean that it was any less than reality. He had been shocked, as to why the vivid image of none other than Hermione Granger had flashed before his eyes rather than anyone else— his mother, heck, even his sodding father. But no, it had been Hermione, the girl he had called a mudblood and tormented all his life; enjoying the satisfaction of seeing her crying and getting uneasy. It had brought him pleasure— all his life, after all.

It wasn't only Granger that made the whole ordeal odd, it was something she had said for the briefest of moments before completely vanishing from his brain.

"_Draco." _

And that had been all.

His name, only his name.

He didn't know why he stopped after that, the piece of glass had fallen out of his hands the moment he had opened his eyes. Draco had sprang as far away as he could from it item, eyes wide— the reality of the situation dawning upon him; what he was about to do, what he could've done to himself if it hadn't been for her.

Draco remembered screaming till his lungs gave out that night. He remembered getting his knuckles bloody when he had punched the wall mirror several times in agony. He remembered screaming and screaming till his voice was hoarse, till his throat was parched.

The saddest part was that nobody had come to check up on him in the aftermath.

**And now, as he stood in front of the Manor he had spent his entire life in,** his hands shook visibly and the numbness in his eyes completely gave him away. He didn't know what had he come looking for here in the first place but Draco know that if he had questions, this was the most likely place in the entire of Britain that would provide answers. It wasn't because of the vast libraries in it, no, but for the woman who resided within.

The only living family Draco had left after the war— his mother, Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco had taken his time with the dark mark, hoping that the pain will go away sooner or later. However, that hadn't been quite the case. Instead of going away, the pain had skyrocketed to its absolute maximum, the pain had taken a toll on him badly— Hermione had become increasingly concerned about him with every passing day, she didn't deter when expressing her concern and quite honestly, (even if he never admitted it) he couldn't see her cry, not over him at least.

Her watery eyes and tear stained cheeks after the pain had washed over him was more painful to encounter than the actual pain of the dark mark itself.

So he had promised himself that he would do something about this ugly scar on his arm, if not for himself then for her.

It was utterly terrifying that he had grown to care for her so much, even putting her above his own self.

Oddly though, he liked the idea of it.

"Whenever you are ready, Draco." Professor McGonagall patted a small hand on his shoulder. Draco turned towards her, truly thankful that she had not sent him to this god-forsaken place alone.

"Thank you, professor." he confessed with an uneasy expression. The nerves were just bundling up like wires in his whole body. "I mean— not just for this but, but for coming along with me, too."

One could tell that McGonagall had grown quite fond of the Malfoy heir in a handful amount of months. She now called him by his name, taht was big. But then again, it wasn't so normal after all, it was her duty to make her students feel at ease. Draco blamed tye decency on his frequent trips to Digon Alley in the past for her, an honest favour.

"I think it's time now," with hands shaking and brain about to burst with all sorts of thoughts, he knocked once on the large dark double doors. Draco had worn his family ring today, hoping that it would be of some use— the purpose was rightfully served when the doors swung open at once, letting him step inside. He recalled his father mentioning how the ring could grant access through all the doors of the Malfoy Manor, and he had used it right to his benefit.

"After you," he balled his fists turning to McGonagall who passed him a tight-lipped smile, mostly in courtesy before she lifted the him of her long green robes to step inside the gloomy place. Draco took a deep breath, his eyes screwing shut. The last time he had been in this place, he had promised himself that when he gets out of here, if he gets out of it, he will never look back, never return to this haunted place.

"Hermione." Draco found himself mumbling her name under his breath, an attempt to not only calm himself down but also remind himself that this was for her; he had to be good for her, he had to be alright for her.

Gathering all his courage, he put his shaking hands in his pockets and took a step inside the large mansion. The cold breeze hit his face the instant he planted his feet on the dust covered black and white tiles.

Draco had not once seen the Manor unclean. For as long as he could remember, his mother had always made sure that the last bit of the place was tidied and cleaned thrice by the house elves. He remembered his mother ordering around those small dwarfs to give their absolute best when it came to the Manor.

And now, it was so unusually unclean.

McGonagall looked equally uncomfortable as Draco. She kept on eyeing the place with disgust but did a good job of speaking nothing about it. Clean or not, it was still home to Draco, at least at some point, it was.

Draco took his time in giving the place a quick once over— dirty floors and cobwebs decorating the insides as if it were a new fashion. Dust was heavily caked onto any type of furniture he could possibly lay his eyes upon— no way in hell, could anyone ever stay here.

And then he heard it, from upstairs.

"Draco? Darling, is that you? Or is it Lucius? Oh, how I have missed you, Lucius!" the voice was feminine, high pitched and utterly emotionless.

Narcissa had been aware of her husband being sent to Azkaban, then why was she calling his name

_Had she gone mad while he was away? _

Draco looked at McGonagall uneasily, he blinked. "Is that—"

"Yes," he confirmed her suspicions. Clearing his throat, he grabbed onto the dusty silver railing of the staircase. "It's mother." he climbed a step before turning around to face his teacher. "I can't do this alone."

To say that Minerva was shocked by his balant confession was an understatement. When his eyes practically pleaded for her to help him, there wasn't a chance for no. While she was naturally strict and rule abiding, Minerva McGonagall had a pure heart under all her tacky crust— a heart that couldn't see her students in pain, and whether that be Draco Malfoy or anyone else, it was just as simple as that.

"Well, I signed up for this." and it was true, quite literally. The moment Draco had decided to do something about his unusual situation with the ugly death mark, he knew that the only person who would be of some sort of help would be the headmistress. Even though she wasn't his first choice, it was her or no other. Draco could either let his pompous ego takeover his senses and be a total brute when it came to seeking help from her or actually do the right thing for once and tell her immediately, hoping that it would not go on vain. Draco would be lying if he said that he didn't want this particularly odd situation to work to his favour— secretly, he had been hoping that McGonagall would take this opportunity to acknowledge how much he had changed and that, he was still, trying his utter best. Maybe it had solely been for Granger but she didn't have to know that. He had wanted her to know that it wasn't the worst idea in the world to let him back at Hogwarts, and that he was a changed man.

He didn't know why did he feel the need to prove himself to the headmistress or anyone for the matter, while it had simply been otherwise in the past. All he did know was, however, that Hermione Granger was inevitably helping him become a better man.

_How very chivalrous._

**They climbed the stairs in silence,** the loose floorboards creeking with every step they took.

And then, they were at the end of the long, silvery spiral staircase, face to face with several rooms on this floor. Draco was about to push open the first room's door when the same voice made him pull back. "Oh, Lucius, please don't keep me waiting, darling! The tea is getting cold! Please have a seat before Draco comes!" it was almost a sing-song gesture from her which made Draco flinch.

"I think it's coming from there." his teacher muttered, nodding towards the room far down the dusty hallway.

Draco made his way towards the farthest room at the end, heating faint thuds to confirm that McGonagall indeed, was right behind him.

Taking a deep breath, Draco swing open the door, to what he remembered, was the drawing room of the floor, instantly wishing that he hadn't in the first place. It seemed like a whole eternity had passed between the mother and son when he finally registered to his surroundings— in the middle of a dust painted room with threads of cobwebs hanging from the ceilings, there stood Narcissa Malfoy in a torn emerald green gown that seemed like one of the house elves had worn it if it weren't for there small figure. Her eyes were unnaturally bright— happy, even. Dark circles graced her features like second skin and her once straight, over her shoulders hair was a braided mess— as if it hadn't been brushed for at least a week. Her pale skin was almost white; an ashy colour that would remind someone of death.

"For Merlin's sake mother." Draco took long strides towards her, wand at the ready. He looked around to locate a handkerchief and immediately transfigured it into a long green cloak. He draped the cloth over her shoulders before looking up at her, his heart ready to burst at any moment now. "Oh, it's you Draco." she sounded happy, almost enthusiastic to see him. She cupped his face in her cold hands and Draco crouched down to meet her at eye level from where she was now sitting on a velvet chair. His fi hers wrapped around her wrists as she continued to stroke his face in a motherly manner. "Oh Draco, I've missed you, my boy, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, mother." He all but croaked. It was horrible to see his mother like this, in this hellhole. "Mother, you can't stay here any longer. What have you done to yourself?" on cue, Draco turned his neck to look around the bizzare place and then, her face, it had lost all it's beauty and now, it looked as if it were merely a matter of time when she'll leave him forever.

"Oh no, I don't live here no," she smiled at him, it was gruesome. "Would you like some tea?" she cooed, her head snapping to her right, as if she were eyeing an invisible tea trolley. "And where is your father? I told him to be here before you come." Narcissa huffed.

Draco's chest tightened a little more with every passing second. One minute felt like a whole eternity. He didn't know what to decipher of this situation. He had so many questions of his own before he got here, but now, seeing his mother like this, he had new ones, all far worse than the previous ones.

"You wait here, I'll go get him." She smiled down at his pale face, her eyes gleamy, "Ah! Minvera!" she acknowledged the headmistress at the doorframe with a nod, "Please make yourself at hoke while I fetch Lucius. A moment please—" and she was already walking away from him.

Walking away when draco grabbed her by the shoulders suddenly and practically pushed her back in the soft velvet seat.

"Father is in—" he choked on his words, tears stung his eyes, "Father isn't here, he's—" choke, "He's in—" another choke, "Azkaban."

Narcissa seemed to regard his words for a moment with dull eyes until she finally felt his words sink in and boy, did it feel horrible.

"HE IS IN AZKABAN! HE HAS BEEN ALL THIS TIME! STOP! STOP IT! HE DID THIS TO ME, TO YOU, TO ALL OF US! STOP TAKING HIS NAME!"

Draco covered his ears as he yelled, not having a care in the world of he was too loud or if his mother was staring at him like her life had just ended then and there.

"Stop, please." he begged in a softer tone one last time. His head slumping down agsint her chest. "Just stop."

A minute of silence and then, "They told me, that- that he was here- and that- I have to find him. They said- he's alright- and that—" and finally, she gave up, fresh hit tears streaming down her face as she hurried to cover her eyes with her hands. "They told me- if I- if I could find him, I would be free and that- I could have you back- have you both back." he let her vent, even though he had so many questions, he let her vent.

Because maybe that's what Narcissa Malfoy wanted more than anything in the world right now.

"You're alright mother, you're alright." he lied.

_No she's not, look at her, you fool, she isn't going to survive any longer if this state of her continues. _

"You're alright." he lied to her again.

At the farthest corner, Minerva regarded Draco with tearful eyes, even she had had a breakdown after seeing the mother and son's relationship before her own eyes. It had just been too much to witness.

"Who is they, mother?" Draco stroked her face, his eyes trained on her.

"What?" she managed to speak over her tears.

"You said 'they told me'. Who is they, mother? Who told you all this? Who left you here in the Manor? Who let you out in the open?" his voice was gentle, almost as if he had been speaking to a child.

Narcissa frowned, wiped her hands on her tear struck face, "Everyone."

Draco looked back to see his professor being equally confused by this confession.

"What do you mean by that? Who is everyone?" his patience was wearing thin by every passing minute. "Tell me, mother. Who is they? Who is everyone?" he spoke harsher than before earning a flinch from her side. It was only then that he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, Minerva gave him an apologetic look when he looked at her, as if urging him to be polite.

She was his mother, after all.

"I'm sorry for my outburst, mother." she said with clear sorrow in his slate grey eyes. "I only mean what is best for you, your safety is my top priority and I am concerned at the moment. I am conceded because whoever this person or persons, God forbid is, is lying to you. Father isn't here and nor was I until now, I wasn't simply here. I'm sorry but they've been lying to you, whoever this...body is." Draco stuttered for a word to put to this traitor and settled for that, feeling slightly better with himself for being so bloody rational at a time like this.

Narcissa didn't answer him.

She only let her eyes wander to his pale forearm, she touched his skin, making him grunt in response. For what it was, he didn't tell her to stop.

"They have been calling you, too, I see now." a soft murmur.

His ears perked up in alarm.

She was looking at his death mark, lightly grazing her fingertips along the edges of the nasty tattoo.

"What— who has been calling me for what? What do you mean?" she didn't speak.

"What do you mean, Narcissa?" McGonagall had finally decided to intervene and boy, was it a time to intervene.

Narcissa only blinked down at the haunted back ink on her son's forearm, and then, she looked up with a smile on her face.

"The Dark Lord." and then, her eyes rolled back to her skull, completely void of life.

She was dead.

-**\--**

**Hello, I missed you all.**

**I'm back with another chapter after two weeks so pelase, be a darling and review it for me and vote pls!**

**Did you seen this coming? Oh well, no you didn't, because there's another huge chunk of it missing! Don't worry! All in good time!**

**Leave your theories below xx**


	16. 15 Returning to the Manor (part two)

**[ important ] **

** 5k words so, make sure you don't cry or worse, die with all the fluff and ofc, trauma. I really like this one, hope you will too.**

**Fuck, let's start. **

The initial shock of the whole ordeal didn't settle in with the pale boy until McGonagall had put a hand to his shoulder— a reminder that she was there, and that this all was real, painfully, horribly and undeniably real. Narcissa's limp hand with sleek and thin fingers stayed trapped in between Draco's, he refused to let the mere memory of his mother vanish, dropping his hand from her own was going to be just that— the moment he would drop her hand, it would all come crashing to his mind; that the woman who had brought him into this world, the woman who had raised him, more or less, the woman he loved despite everything she put him through, despite all their differences, the woman who was now dead, and the woman who was now lying limp in her chair with eyes absolutely blank, that this woman, his mother, was dead.

Dead.

Funny word, Draco had always imagined it to be.

One didn't know the consequences of its aftermath once they had a one on one with the frightful monster themselves. It was easy to say that someone died, it was even easier to feel little to no pain when it concerned someone else; but when it was someone you loved, someone you knew all your sodding life— the tables were quick to turn in death's favour, dumping all sorts of griefs on you, as if death itself is yelling at you, _"So I took them and you can't do anything about it."_

"Draco," truth was, Minerva didn't know what to tell the Slytherin before her. Should she tell him that it's alright and that deaths of family members are just as natural as anything else in the universe or should she tell him that he can talk to her about it? Certainly none of the above stated, she thought. Instead of saying anything, she assured herself to remain calm and silent, as if she hadn't just witnessed the death of someone she knew, even if not well, right before her eyes. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes felt like prolonged hours and yet, Draco still didn't move a muscle from his place of being crouched next to his pale and dead mother in the lavish seat. His head was bowed in a tired slump and his body was visibly calm to the eye, not shaking even one bit.

Minerva allowed him to gireve, he did, after all, lose the last person he could call family.

_And on Christmas, what a day to grieve. _

After what felt like decades, Draco raised his head to look one final time in the blank eyes of his mother, a sigh escaping his lips. Slowly, as if he was afraid that she'd break had he moved any faster, he unwrapped his fingers from around her wrist, letting her frail hand fall in her lap. He closed his eyes briefly before reopening, revealing the slate grey orbs behind his hooded eyelids.

Not even a single tear, not one.

Ever so gently, he ran his cold hand over her eyes, shutting the eyelids of his once beautiful mother— the woman he admired all his life because despite everything, Draco still held more love in his heart for his mother than he held hate. Maybe it was an ounce or two bigger than the hate he had tucked away deep down in his heart, but it was always more than the loathe he held for her.

He pressed his lips to her forehead as he closed his eyes at the sharp and cold contact of her skin with his own. "Goodbye, mother."

And then, he had already turned around, walking away from the scene without sparing as much as a second glance at his dead mother in the love seat.

The fact of losing his mother on this day took Draco down his memory lane—Christmas holidays at The Manor. He had gotten all the gifts he had ever wanted, all the toys and books, everything. He would run down the stairs on Christmas mornings until he was 12, look around, locate his presents and actually enjoy the day. After 12, it became a burden— seeing his parents at the Manor with their odd conversations in hushed whispers about you-know-who and dark magic, it didn't feel like Christmas anymore. By the time he had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the next break, his parents had stopped writing to him. It wasn't the same, it really wasn't after all that happened. What he remembered most about his last Christmas with his parents was his mother smiling down at him once in a blue moon, telling him that she loved him and that despite their rocky relationship, he could still come over for Christmas at least and spend the day with her, if not anyone else. She had promised him that she'd always be there, if not on any other day then at least on Christmas.

And now she wasn't, she had been taken away the same day she had promised not to leave. It was all that he remembered, and God, how he'd wish to give anything to not remember.

**In a parallel** mind to his, Minerva took her time, casting sad eyes on the dead woman, she sighed, turned on her heels and walked off to where Draco had just gone. She hadn't known Narcissa except for being the wife of a deatheater and the mother to one of her students who also, for the record, happened to be a deatheater in the past— it felt inappropriate to voice untrue words of sympathy and eulogies like they had been fast friends in their time.

"Mr. Malfoy," Minvera approached him standing right next to the pillar outside of the room they had just exited, the room where his mother laid dead now. Draco had the calmest expression on his face, even his placid body agreed with his restful brain.

But dear God, his eyes.

A whole storm, of grey and silver ready to collide with the rocks and cause complete havoc in mere minutes.

"I will send someone over to collect her and proceed with the burial duties," she informed him, not noticing the storm in his eyes, or maybe she did— "I would understand if you want to go back and come back another day, it's been..." she calculated her words, "A rather unusual day."

Draco didn't speak.

McGonagall sighed, "We can always come back another day. Answers can wait, grief and a little emptiness is permanent." she told him in a wise tone, as if she was lecturing a child. "Let us go back to Hogwarts, I promise you, I'll ask around about the deathmark through my...acquaintances. I'm confident that we will get a lead. The information your mother supplied us with has indeed, helped us in a way or two. At least now we know what is going on and dare I say, it is absolutely frightening and at the same time, impossible." McGonagall realised she got off track, realising this, she sighed once more. Dealing with the emotions of her students wasn't really her cup of tea.

"I promise you, we will have a lead soon. Your mother wouldn't have died in vain." With that, she flashed a portkey from her bright green robes and looked at Draco right in the eye.

With one final glance at the closed double doors of the drawing room, Draco touched two fingers to the portkey, spinning and spinning until he finally landed on all fours in the head mistress' office.

All he knew now, was that he wanted to curl up into a ball and cry like a little baby who had just lost his mother in Digon Alley, except, he wouldn't be able to find her this time.

**_**

Hermione's leg bounced impatiently against the coffee table of her dorm room.

Draco had been gone too long now— it had been nearly twelve hours. When McGonagall had come to take him, presumably to one of her trips to Digon Alley. As it was Christmas, she figured that the headmistress needed him to run some errands, it was only normal. She had also come to realise that Hermione had been replaced by Draco again. She didn't ask him anything, didn't ask McGonagall even as to why she was replacing her with him (sounded too much of teacher's pet question even to her). When the headmistress had asked her to fetch the Malfoy heir, she had made a beeline for his room, knocking once and then twice before saying _"Oh sod it!" _and going inside herself— coming to an abtuot stop (or maybe she did see it coming) that Draco was in the midst of putting on a black button down which contrasted perfectly with his pale skin. Draco had just secured two of the buttons when Hermione had smiled slyly at him and walked right upto him, pushing the confused slytherin down on the bed.

She had climbed over his body, her limbs caging him in as her wild curls sprawled over his face. "Aren't you a naughty, naughty girl, Granger." it wasn't a question, rather a statement. She had dipped her head and kissed him briefly but sweetly on the lips, not knowing where all this sudden confidence was coming from, her best guess had to be that Draco was starting to rub off too much on her with all his flirty gestures and spontaneous making out.

Draco had just tugged on her shirt when she realised what she had come in for. With a sigh, the witch straightened herself, pulling up the blond with her. She took the liberty to straighten his shit and fasten the remaining buttons like a caring wife.

Giving him a quick once over and approving (given the glint in her eyes) she played with its collar as she grazed the tips of her fingers at the column of his throat. "Professor McGonagall is here to see you."

And that, had been what had killed the mood.

Draco had scoffed and whined like a child, _predictable_, thought Hermione.

"I need to teach you a thing or two about flirting." Draco had told her teasingly as he put a hand to the doorknob, "First lesson: never mention your teachers."

_And now,_ she was getting worried with every passing minute.

Her eyes kept snapping to the wall clock to her right, seeing the seconds tick away, turning into minutes and then, hours.

She didn't know when she put her head on the coffee table, wild curls sprawled all over the place, asleep thinking of his return.

**Hermione's right eye** cracked open some time around dawn, judging by the canvas of sunlight painted across the dorm walls. She put a hand to her head to control the spinning, a futile attempt at savoring some peace. She forced her eyes open and looked around. When the familiar settings of her surroundings settled well with her, it was only then that she realised what she had been doing prior to sleeping like a baby. The reality of the situation kicked in pretty quick after that; she shook her head as if trying to clear the remnants of her angsty dreams, her eyes roamed around the place as she stood up on her feet. A little dizzy, Hermione made her way towards Draco's room on instinct, her chest tightening with every step she took towards the inviting wooden door.

With a jolt, she pushed open the door completely losing it when her eyes settled on the boy curled up at the foot of the huge four poster bed. Whatever remaining dizziness and sleep she had, had been flung out of the window after that sight.

Forcing herself to be silent, she tiptoed her way inside the cold room. Hermione's eyes didn't look away from Draco's lean body helplessly resting there, his back straight against the post of the bed and a single arm dangling over his hunched knee with eyes closed. Hermione had little to no time to celebrate the fact that he was, at least, here. The Gryffindor made her way towards him, eyes softening at the mere sight of his drained body helplessly collapsed into an elegant mess of limbs and white pale skin.

Hermione realised that she had stopped in her tracks.

She watched the Slytherin ever so attentively before her eyes. The way his shoulders slumped in a defeated manner, the familiar light blue and purple bruises dusting his pale skin under his eyes, his soft hair a complete mess of silver threads sticking up in different places, his body sagged— it looked like he had been through hell and over in the time he was away.

_So certainly it wasn't Diagon Alley. _

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had already gone over to his side and cradled his hot face in her petite hands. She allowed herself to run her fingers through his distraught hair in an attempt to not only make it look decent but also, for the sake of his sanity itself, her thoughts paid off when Draco sighed a content breath, his eyes still shut. The panic was starting to grow in the pit of her stomach as all kinds of questions washed over her.

_Where had McGonagall taken him?_

_Why was he so tired?_

_Was he okay?_

_What had happened last last night? _

His grey eyes fluttered open like two half moons in the placid sky. His lips had small cracks to their sides, upon seeing this, she conjured a goblet of water and cupped the back of his neck with a hands simultaneously while she nudged the goblet closer to his lips. In an additional attempt to soothe him, she etched her fingertips on his collarbone, creating random patterns as her fingers grazed the chilly skin of his body. She looked into his eyes as he took a tentative sip from the goblet before pushing it away, her fingers itched to go south from where they were resting now, it was dangerous but so tempting at the same time. She had missed being close to him, missed the proximity of them being able to be so close to each other and pretending that they didn't know about the mutual feelings they shared for each other, they way his eyes spoke so many emotions and thoughts when his tongue betrayed him but she understood; she always did.

Hermione reluctantly popped open the first button of his button down, then another, and another, and then another until she could see small and sparse golden hairs on his chest. Two more buttons undone revealed a barely visible stream of golden hairs etched onto his stomach and going south to his abdomen.

By now, Draco was fully awake. What little sleep he had in his head was kicked out of the window the moment she had started touching the skin around his collarbone. He would be lying if he were to say he didn't enjoy this kind of stuff from her, or that he hadn't missed her in the several hours he was gone.

It completely terrified him to his core that he couldn't even last a fucking day without thinking of her. All the time he had been in the Manor, his mind had refused to think of anything else except the girl he had left behind in the dorm to come to this god-forsaken place. He could have very well enjoyed the remaining days of Christmas break tangled up in the sheets with his girlfriend as they slept into oblivion but no, this just had to come up. This shit with the dark mark and his deatheater past had finally come to bite him in the arse. Draco wasn't stupid, of course he knew his actions would have dire consequences on both situations— if he joined the Dark Lord or even The sodding Order. Either way, it meant getting killed. Maybe the Order would have pardoned him eventually because they were just _so nice_ but the Dark Lord would've killed him, he would've killed his family because he was ruthless and honestly, a shitty fucktard who'd have done it just for the fun of it. He had only hoped that the rest of his years would be somewhat less chaotic than the first 18 years.

But again, hope was a dangerous thing to have.

Just like it was dangerous for him to cling onto that single thread of sanity dangling from thin air.

In the end, the dark mark hadn't been worth it. It had taken his virtue, sanity and all hope of a better life ahead.

Granger had been looking at him with her big doe-like eyes, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Easily, he let the shirt loose, feeling the cool air hit his torso as the fabric slid off his hot body. Hermione was edged closer to his form, her forehead pressing against his. Carefully, as if he was a porcelain doll which would break if touched too hard, she let her lips brush the skin on his jaw. The cold pair of lips coming in contact with his skin like the calming east wind.

"You're burning up."

"Does it matter?" came the response in thin air.

Hermione slightly raised her head to see him in the eyes. To her much dismay, Draco's eyes were closed. Instead of speaking, she decided to settle on a more intimate gesture than the power of words— she took his hand in her own and ever so slowly, without looking away from his closed eyes, she pressed it flat against her breast.

At that, Draco's eyes shot open like wildfire, burning bright. She watched him with calming breaths, afraid she would lose it if she didn't force herself to be calm. Draco's hands didn't move from her chest. It was merely a gesture to get his attention to Hermione, she hadn't meant for it to go any further, so when Draco urgently placed his lips on hers, to say that she was a little taken aback would be an understatement. Draco's hands flew from her chest to cup her face, pressing into her sides with a frenzy she didn't know he possessed. His eyes were clear, anyone could look into his eyes and see the storm within. Draco's lips never left hers, only pulling half inch away to catch his breath before nipping at her bottom lip again.

Gods, how he had missed her.

The pump of adrenaline coarsing through his veins, the electricity passing through his body at her comforting touch, the calmness it brought him, he had missed it, all if it, all of her. Breathing rigid, Draco kissed the column of her throat, urging himself to stay there as long as he could, feeling the familiar soothing sensation setting in. His hands came to rest on either side of her, trapping her fragile body in between like a caged animal.

Hermione audibly gulped, the impact of which Draco felt heavily because of his lips on her throat.

His eyes opened, he heard her gasp slightly.

"I'm hiding so much from you, so much that it's beginning to kill me from inside." whatever she was expecting to hear, certainly wasn't this. Her mind wondered all kinds of fucked up theories that could be bothering him, each worst than the previous one. Hermione didn't know what else to do except intertwine her fingers with his, cold skin again warm— oddly though, this time, Draco wasn't the one that felt like cold snow.

It was her.

Fear did that to people.

"What are you hiding from me, Draco?" she all but calmly spoke, letting her fingers run through his hair. She was quite fond of running her fingers through his soft threads, having done so on many similar occasions when they had shared a bed; it was oddly enjoyable to her.

"I can't tell you." his heart broke a little at the trust he was putting in her. Truth was, it was not about trusting her. Granger had had a major panic attack that day when she found him burning up on the floor because of his dark mark. To say that she had seen a ghost, wouldn't have been wrong, judging from how frightened she had gotten. Draco had never seen someone worry so much about himself, not even his mother. Funny how Granger waltzs in his life four months prior and completely turns the tables. It wasn't true, no, Draco trusted her more than he trusted himself— it just seemed an endangering thought to put her in this chaos right now. He himself didn't even know what the hell was going on with him, how could he tell her? What would he say to her?

Talking about his feelings was the hardest thing he had to cope with, hell, even Voldemort couldn't top that list.

It was just that complex.

"I can't tell you," he repeated, eyes softening at tye sight of Granger parting her lips slightly. Draco tucked a loose strand of her curl behind her ear, "I can't tell you." his lips were pressed to her forehead, lingering there for a second or two longer than usual. "I can't put you in this danger, no, not again."

Hermione, who had been silent all this time, had a quizzical expression on her face; a frown and drawn together eyebrows.

"Danger?" she voiced, voice cracking at the end. "What danger? Draco, what is going on? What aren't you telling me? Are you alright?"

_No, I'm not alright. _

He hated to be in this position.

Over the past few months, he had grown to tell Granger almost everything. From his first broomstick experience to his favourite colour, from his first kiss to his favourite books to read on a rainy morning, from his finest childhood memory of getting his first broomstick to his favourite girl in the world, ever so balantly kissing Hermione to prove his statement right afterwards.

_"Oh." was all Hermione had said, her blush had made him laugh and only kiss her harder in the aftermath_.

But this was different.

So much more different than the rest of times they had fooled around.

This could kill him.

And if he wasn't careful, it could kill _her_, too.

"I need you," he shook his head vigorously, as if a child waking up from a nightmare in the middle of the night. "I need you Hermione, I don't want you, I _need_ you, do you understand me?" he shook her by the shoulders, feeling the need to prove his point. Instantly, both of them were up on their feet with Draco pulling her up on his own. Hermione's head hurt at his words but so put up a good show of not letting that show. It looked like he was fighting a battle with himself the way his eyes kept flicking to her eyes and then down her lips and the finally, head hanging down in defeat.

Hermione didn't know what was happening nor did she have the faintest clue of the importance of words he had just uttered so did what she had to, kiss him on the lips like she meant it, her mouth covering his as she cried into the kiss, cried her fucking heart out because the meaning of his words finally settled in then. Tears rolled down her cheeks like waterworks but she didn't stop them, made no effort whatsoever.

A sob, and then another, followed by one more.

_I love you, Draco Malfoy. _

But her tongue betrayed her.

_Not now, no, not now, Hermione told herself. _

"And that's—" His shaking vocie brought her out of her little reverie. Her throat felt like or had been tied in a knot for she couldn't speak. Muffled sobs escaped her lips as Draco's cradled her body against his, close and warm. It was the first time she felt this way; content, complete— like a missing puzzle piece had finally been pieced together, the epiphany was overwhelming.

"And that's exactly why I can't tell you." Draco finished, his voice breaking as his arms wrapped tighter around her waist, pressing her closer to his body. Hermione's arms looped around his neck as she tried her hardest to stand tall on her tiptoes still falling short of the boy before her. Draco cupped her face, gazing into her eyes for one split second and then, calmly kissing her forehead again.

"I'm asking you to trust me on this." he didn't pull away from her forehead, hands still cupping her cheeks. "Can you do that for me?"

A lengthy pause.

And then, a soft kiss to the crook of his neck.

Draco sighed.

"Yes."

The common ground they both shared spoke volumes on their behalf. The mutual understanding they had was a silent proof of the feelings they both shared but didn't bring on their lips.

"Thank you." Draco picked her hand in his, admiring the skin as if he wasn't familiar with every inch of it already.

Silence, followed by Draco swiftly dragging her to the enormous four poster bed, pushing her slightly so that she settled on the plush material beneath. He crawled his way towards her, inching now only a few centimeters away from her as he hovered over her with his palms flattened. "I got you something."

She smiled crookedly, all attention focused on Draco. The fact that he didn't have a shirt on only made her blush harder. It seemed like a scene straight of out a cliché romance book where the guy came over for "studying" by secretly climbing through the girl's bedroom window, sharing little intimate moments as the night went on. Hermione knew all about it, she had read it in many Muggle books and frankly, the images invading her brain at the moment did little to nothing to calm her down.

She pushed herself into her elbows, supporting her weight. "You did? Why?" her expression was of genuine shock lacing her soft features— Draco didn't remember seeing something so pure ever before.

"Relax, it's not a ring, we're not getting married, well, not any time soon." he added just for a teasing effect. It paid off when Hermione only flushed, groaning as she smacked his arm. Draco, on the other hand, only laughed. It was genuinely amusing to see her like that; all flushed and embarrassed.

The laughter died down and soon enough he was looking at her with that star-crossed expression he always did when he thought she wasn't looking. Little did he know, Hermione had caught him on her own time, twice, or maybe it had been more, she didn't know.

He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers yet again and smiled at her.

Heemione felt the air leave her lungs for a second at the sight.

Carefully, she watched him fish into one the front pockets of his pants, pulling out a little piece of square paper. Draco brought the paper in front of her so she could see for herself as he unfolded the crinkled white sheet before her focused eyes.

Draco was satisfied to hear the gasp leaving her mouth when her eyes settled on the item which had been securely wrapped in the paper just seconds ago.

"Draco, I—" she couldn't form a coherent sentence and Draco realised how much more satisfying it made the whole situation for him.

"Don't talk, just kiss me, I'll understand." he supplied cockily, the corner of his lips turning up in a low grin. As per request, Hermione was quick to kiss his lips again, it was an exercise she was willing to do for as long as he allowed her, it was just that simple. With one final nibble to his bottom lip, Hermione pulled back, eyes never leaving his.

She watched him in a daze as he lifted the silver chain from the paper and ushered her to turn around with a jerk of his head. Obeying, Hermione turned around just a little to give him access to her neck. Draco wasted little to no time in devouring her neck with playful bites and kisses before securely fastening the article of jewelry around her neck. He brushed her hair to one side and kissed her just below her earlobe earning a low moan of approval.

Hermione finally turned to her original position, shifting her body closer to his. She crawled into his lap just when Draco opened his arms for her to settle in them. Hermione was filled with awe, a feeling she had overcome many times when she was with Draco.

But this.

Dear god this changed so many things.

Hermione touched the pendant dangling from the beautiful silver chain, her fingers caressed the shiny material in complete content. Attached to the chain was silver key with encrusted green gems on the handle, (_how very slytherin_, Hermione noted) but even in her right state of mind, she couldn't find herself to complain, she just couldn't.

"It's the key to my wounded heart," Draco drawled from the side sarcastically, but Hermione caught on the little joke soon, too. "Congratulations Granger, you've just opened one of the many dark chambers within." He kissed her cheek, Merlin knew what could happen any moment with all that's been going on lately. He had to make sure that what little time he had would be made the best use of.

Hermione cloud not keep her eyes away from the little gift Draco had given her. It was a small gesture but spoke volumes— not only about his feelings but also about her own. She had, after all, accepted it with the same feelings as he had given her with in the first place.

The feelings were mutual here, she realised quickly.

Tucking away another curl behind her ear and then kissing her forehead in a protective manner, Hermione felt her lungs constrict at this words.

"Merry Christmas, Granger."

**PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW, I HOPE THIS CHAPTER MADE UP FOR MY LACK OF INACTIVITY.**


	17. 16 Adherent Admiration

**let's go guys, remember to leave a review! **

_"No, don't touch her! I will fucking kill you! Don't you dare lay as much as a finger on her—" muffled cries stopped him dead in his tracks. He forced himself to remain silent so he could follow the sound and find out where it was coming from but it wasn't that easy, was it?_

_"Look at you, you're so pathetic." his aunt snarled at him, showing off her hideous yellow teeth. "In love? With a mudblood?" she pouted, feigning innocence. "Oooo, this is interesting, very interesting! You love her! You love her! You love her!" she kept on shouting, a voice so sharp, it pierced his ears. He had to cover his ears to block it out but to no avail was he successful._

_"Let her go!" He was sobbing mess by now, tears streaming down his face and shoulders shaking violently. He covered his face in his hands, a futile attempt to rinse off the tears. "LET HER GO!" He kept on screaming and the crazy woman before him kept on laughing like a maniac. "I SAID LET HER GO, YOU BITCH!" he was advancing towards her laughing future now, wand forgotten and fists clenched._

_That was his second mistake before falling in love with her._

_"LET HER—"_

_"Oh! But I quite like her!" Bellatrix sang in her playful voice. "I like the way she screams," the glint on her eyes was sadistic and raw. He felt his heart stop. "I like how she has more scars than you can count. I like how she yells your name every single time I hit her with a crucio." She stopped to admire his pathetic self crouched down on the floor, unable to breathe. "I like how she is going to die any moment now."_

_Bellatrix smiled viciously at the boy who cried wolf._

_"You're so pathetic, I wonder why my dear Cissy didn't kill you the moment she had you." he felt the air leave his lungs at her every word. Not only did he still hear her screaming but the thought of what she was going through added insult to the injury. "You're so pathetic." repeated Bellatrix as she dragged her wand across his jaw and then his throat. "So," she bent down, her wild curls brushing his face as she grazed her lips along his ear shell. "Pathetic."_

_Another scream._

_And then, he was pushing his way up, leaving behind a laughing Beatrix who watched her nephew with utter amusement, the sadistc spark in her eyes never vanished._

_It made him sick._

_"Oh dear nephew," she called out, voice so high-pitched, it made him cringe. "I do hope you find her in time, we don't have much of it anyway. Oh, but I really hope you don't because then, I get to kill her right in front of you." But he wasn't paying any attention to her, all he had on his mind was the girl he loved and she was here, somewhere trapped in between all these doors. He looked around to see a maze of doors, all iron and dark. With one huge corridor, hundreds of doors aligned in a symmetrical manner that made his skin itch, all of them the same with a brass serpent encarved into the middle. His panic rose when he heard Bellatrix say, "Time's ticking! Tick, tock, tick, tock, times running out! Tick, tock, tick, tock! All you have to do is knock! The mudblood is going to be die if you can't you can't recover from your shock, tick, tock, tick, tock, if I were you, I'd hurry like the hawk!" she sing-song._

_"Hermione!" blood rushed to his ears as she screamed her name, trying his utter best to block out the maniacal laughter of his aunt behind him. "Hermione!" she yelled again, pushing door after door from his left to right and being welcomed by nothing but darkness._

_"HERMIONE!" tears blurred his vision as he kept on pushing open door after door in hopes of finding tye girl he loved, and then, he heard her scream his name._

_His hands shaking didn't stop him from continuing what he was._

_Door after door was pushed open to reveal utter nothingness, by now, he had roughly pushed open a hundred doors. One look ahead and he realised that there were still hundreds more left. He ran forward, looking for anything that would tell him where she was, anything at all. One particular door caught his attention— instead of a brass serpent, the iron door had a red one. He urged himself forward, almost throwing up at the sight._

_It was blood._

_And something told him that it was hers_

_"No." he softly said, and then shouted his lungs out. "No, no, no, no, NO! NO! NO!" he pulled at the roots of his hair, "NO!" he turned around to see his aunt dancing around to a silent lullaby, her arms in the air and her feet swaying her away. "MAKE IT STOP!" He tired to push open the door but it didn't even budge. He could see the streaks of yellow light from under the little space between the ground and the door._

_This was the door._

_She was here, she was inside and she was screaming his name in utter agony._

_"I BEG YOU! STOP THIS! DON'T HURT HER!" he was on his knees now, trying to push open the door with all his might, futile. "MAKE IT STOP!" He cried when she screamed again, the sound making his lungs give out. "PLEASE!"_

_"JUST TAKE ME INSTEAD! LEAVE HER!"_

_But Bellatrix only pouted like a little child at his sobbing self. "Time's up, over now!"_

_And with that, the door swung open, the hard iron colliding with the wall behind it to emit a screeching sound._

_Draco stopped crying, his feet stood frozen on the hard ground._

_The girl he loved stood helpless in gve crowd of deatheaters, her hands tied behind her back and a blindfold covering her warm brown eyes. Her lips were trembling and she had tears leaking down her eyes that created seemless patterns on omher cheeks._

_And she was at the mercy of a masked man, a tall man with a crooked leg and long hair, a sharp blade wedged between his hand and Hermione's neck._

_"Pathetic." Bellatrix drawled from behind just when a masked man slashed the soft skin at her throat, her body fell in the pool of her own blood just when Draco felt himself screaming all at once. He crawled his way towards her body and touched the blood with his hands, as if making sure it was real and not just a fragment of his wild imagination._

_The last thing he remembered was taking the blade from the ground and charging towards the man, ready to kill him just when he made the first move and hit him with a body binding curse, it was just then that Draco realised that Bellatrix had her own wand pointed at him._

_"Avada Kedavra."_

_And then, everything went black._

**A piercing** scream.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" Draco woke up to the sound of his own screaming, his throat wa closing up on him and it felt like the four walls of his room would collapse on him if he didn't move from his position on the bed.

Another scream.

His heart was beating at such an erratic pace, it was alarming. The beads of sweat framing his face did nothing more that to add to his panic. Draco's hands traveled around his surroundings, feeling the things around him as if to tell himself that this was reality and that that wasn't. His trembling fingers ran through his hair as he tried to calm his body and mind down.

And then, it struck him like lightning.

"Hermione," he whispered into thin air. His feet were already taking him towards her room as he fell down multiple times in an attempt to stay upright. Draco didn't know what he was doing, all he knew was that he had to break into her room like a madman and know that she was okay, that she hadn't been hurt or worse, taken away from him. He knocked off several items as he stumbled out of the room, colliding with at least three more things before she finally made his way out the room, past the living room and then finally, her room. His breathing became even more erratic as he registered his sight to another door, and even though it wasn't the same as the one in his nightmare, it still managed to give him anxiety. With a speed he didn't know he was capable of having, he pushed the door hard as it hit the stone wall behind it. Hermione was already up, from the looks of it, it seemed like she had heard him screaming and that she was just coming in to check up on him.

Seeing her before him with her eyes all worried and lips parted, Draco wanted to cry, and so he did. His tears leaking out before he could stop himself. Without wasting even a second longer, he charged toward her, his arms wrappings around her like clockwork, pressing her deep into his body. His heart calmed down at tye prospect of her being unhurt, and being right here, just next to him, safe and sound.

The dream had seemed so real, he was afraid that it might have just been the harsh reality.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream," she ran her fingers through his hair just as Draco started to calm down. He had won over his demons, little by little, he was getting that— and this was just one of the many tasks that lied in between the horrid start and the beautiful destination.

He didn't let her go.

Draco's mouth came over hers, pressing harsh open mouthed kisses to her lips and then down her throat, as if he was relishing the reality of her being here with him, right now in this moment. Hermione felt the urgency, the impatience in his kisses and she wanted nothing more than to question him. Still, she allowed herself to let him calm down before any interrogating. This was so odd, he had never done this before, not once had he barged into his room with such urgency. Sure, there was the time when he told her that he was sorry for tormenting her all those years but this, dear god this, was on a whole new level of rawness and emotion.

"Draco—" but he wasn't listening. All his focus had been trained on her warm eyes that he forced himself to look into after brushing her wild curls from hee face, as if it was another protective measure he had to take to make sure that she was _really_ alright.

Seeing her like that in his nightmare had inky confirmed his suspicions of what he felt towards the brightest witch of their age. Seeing her die right before his eyes had made his life lose the little purpose it had after the war— to seek love of someone who would be willing to give it to him, someone who would look past his exterior and reach into the pits of hell to extract the remains of his broken soul underneath, of the little scared boy hiding away in a dark chamber as his most trusted friends and family members walk away from him. The little boy who had been deprived of a mother's love, a father's guidance, a friend's companionship and a lover's affection.

He didn't know when Hermione Granger had extended her hand and plucked him out of the darkness that had circled him all his life like second skin.

He didn't know _how_, but she had.

He probably would have never admitted it to himself but seeing her fall in her own pool of blood just minutes ago had been the most frightening thing he had ever witnessed— it came first to Voldemort's torturing, to his parents leading his astray even when he trusted them with his life, his so called friends always being absent when he had needed them the most.

Draco realised that all these things that he thought would end his world, would break him, never actually did anything except hurt him for some months; even though they would leave behind a permanent mark on his soul and mind, it would never actually matter because he had expected that at some point in his life. He had expected his parents to sell him off to an extremely dark force in the magical world, he had expected his friends to leave him once they had enjoyed the fame it came with being friends with him but he had never imagined this.

He had never imagined to lose someone he loved so adherently and maybe, just maybe, that's what made it hurt the most.

For some reason, not being able to predict this, made the throe unimaginably excruciating.

If he hadn't imagined losing someone so close before in his life, it was because he never expected someone to love him in the first place.

"Nightmare, I- you were- Bellatrix, I didn't know what to- lost you, I couldn't find- the doors, blood-" he was sputtering all the words at once clustering his mind. By now, his mind had lost the ability to form a single rational sentence. Sensing the trepidation behind his words, Hermione walked them over to her bed and pushed him down, not once did her hand leave his, it was like leading a child through a crowded funfair on a winter night— you had to keep them close to you at all times.

"It's okay, you're okay, I'm okay, I'm right here, see?" she attempted a half smile which Draco didn't return, his mind was too busy with the things plaguing his mind.

Hermione clutched his cold hand in her own and interlaced their fingers. The warmth of her skin complimented his icy one— it was beautiful.

With her other hand, she guided his hair sticking out behind his ear, "We're okay." she sighed, "We're okay Draco, we're okay."

None of them spoke anything for several minutes, until finally Draco gathered his shredded courage and began speaking which came out more like a croak from all the screaming earlier. "I want to tell you something, I want to tell you something before it's too late." his grey eyes fell on the silver key dangling around her neck, it calmed him down to a great extent knowing that she didn't take it off even when she was sleeping.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you can tell me while we're under the warm covers, quite frankly, it's freezing." she chuckled. Truth was, she could've just muttered a warming charm to make the temperature of the room accommodating but she wanted to feel his body against her own, she wanted to be the reason he calmed down, not magic.

Nodding once, Draco secured her small hand in his and pulled her down on the soft surface, while his body had been evidently hot just a few minutes ago, this felt like a major relief.

"I- I lost you in my, little reverie." he sighed, burying his face in her neck. Hermione stoked his hair and inched her body closer to his. Slowly but surely, she felt his body ease under her touch. His muscles visibly relaxed just when she felt him exhale a sigh on the skin of her neck. "You were screaming and I-"

His eyes closed.

"You don't have to tell me, not right now, it's okay," but Draco was shaking his head.

"No," he whispered looking down at her, "I want to tell you."

"You must allow me to tell you how adherently I admire you."

Understandingly, Hermione blinked at him, a silent approval in the cold December air.

"You-" he gulped, his fingers coming up to stroke her soft skin on her cheeks. "You died." it had been a whisper, but she had heard him.

"And I— I felt so lost, so," she could see him struggle with his words. "Like I had lost that one thing on life that actually mattered. And I was so helpless, I can't remember one time in my life when I begged someone for something. Never. I remember begging to Bellatrix to spare you and just take me instead—" she stopped to look at her. Her eyes showed a different kind of emotion than all times before, it was something he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Of course, she didn't listen to me but it was an eye opener, a big one." he didn't break eye contact with her as she spoke, "I have never once either begged for something nor have I ever asked to be killed instead of someone. I don't remember feeling so empty, ever before. Maybe I'm looking too much into it but I don't care, I know what I saw and I know what I felt. Maybe the nightmare hadn't been real but my—"

"Yes?" her voice was timid, it made Draco sigh.

"But my feelings for you were." he finally said after what felt like hours of menacing silence.

"Hermione," he gathered her hands in his, voice shaking, "I think— I think that I-"

"You what?" Hermione grew impatient. She was now sitting making Draco sit too, their hearts thumping.

He brushed a soft curl behind her face and hung his head before raising it again.

"No, I know that—" his voice broke and his heart pounder against his ribcage at the mere prospect of his next words.

"I'm in love with you, Hermione Granger."

**Cliffhangers are a bitch, tell me about it. But eeek, this is what we've all been waiting for. I hope I was able to capture their feelings and emotions as good as you guys had hoped for! I'm kinda in love with this Draco, aren't you?**

**What are your thoughts on the book this far? Drop in a review and let me know what you think is going to happen next.**

**All the love, me. **


	18. 17 Unsatisfactory Answers (part one)

New year's eve was marked with many notions, romantic ones.

A kiss to his lips.

"Say that again?"

A shy smile in thin air.

"I love you."

A content sigh from his side, nose buried deep in her soft toffee curls.

"Again."

"I love you." he closed his eyes, taking in her beautiful scent.

"I love you." she repeated, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his bare skin.

"I love you." she tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed another velvety kiss to his lips, his nose, his closed eyes, his cheeks and then, a last one to seal the promise, on his lips again.

Draco's fingers came up to stroke her collarbone, taking their dear time moving against her skin. With every graze, Hermione found herself falling deeper and deeper into the blissful canopy Draco had managed to push her into just by telling her that he loved her. She knew that the moment she had said those words back to him, there would be no turning back, either she was all in or all out. Because let's face it, loving Draco Malfoy was no piece of cake; loving him was like loving a thousand different pieces of a broken mirror— even though it was shattered, you couldn't help but pick up the sharp pieces in your hands and admire the mosiac for it's beauty.

The moment she whispered back the words to him, she knew. She knew it was going to be a difficult road down to happiness, but hey, she had been through this before, right? This time, she had the company of the man she loved.

"God, I'd never get tired of listening to you say that again and again." she felt him exhale deeply. His fingers came down to tangle with hers, "I love you, too," he kissed her lips and looked down at her delicate form— rosy cheeks and wild curls enhancing the beauty she already possessed.

It felt...nice.

To say those words, it felt nice, he concluded.

Maybe it had been the frailty of the nightmare that had provoked him to speak his mind but one way or another, he was glad he had spoken what he had already known, what he had always believed deep down in his heart.Saying those wonderful yet frightening words had been on top of his list of "_most worrisome things" _and now, he'd give anything to say those words to her.

His heart told him that he knew about loving Hermione all along.

Somewhere in between their little study sessions and enduring the aftereffects of the Quidditch Kiss Cam, he had fallen head over heels in love with the brightest witch of their age.

Somewhere in between stolen kisses and exposing naked confessions at midnight, he had fallen in love with her.

Somewhere in the midst of telling her all about his life, his most cherished memories, his darkest secrets, his past prejudices and everything in between, Draco had surrended over his wounded heart to the girl he had tormented all his life, the girl he had grown to cherish, to worship, to love with all of him.

All he knew now was that she was the most beautiful miracle to happen to him in all his eighteen years of existence.

"Merlin bless that unsmart kiss cam," he pushed himself up on his elbows, admiring the brown of her eyes as she smiled at him.

"Just say stupid. I know you want to." Hermione brushed back his hair from his eyes. The soft locks made her want to keep on running her hand through them.

Draco smirked. "I have come to realize that I tend to say that a lot Granger," Hermione stifled a laugh at his words. "You see, I'm trying to expand my vocabulary."

By now, the mischievous glint in his eyes had taken over his form in full. No longer was the conversation funny, it was greatly amusing to the Gryffindor.

"So you can insult more people with newer words?" at that, the laughter died down a bit. Hermione had contemplated saying that in her mind but realised that it wasn't such a big deal, apparently, it was.

"Don't expect me to be perfect Granger, I'm still trying." he lifted his form off the bed, untangling his limbs from hers as he made an attempt to reach for his discarded black jumper on the floor when Hermione was suddenly up on her feet, the blanket which had been around her before, falling down on the sheets with the softest of thuds.

Draco tried his utter best to resist the temptation of her bare chest right at his disposal.

Of course they had just been playing around like lovesick couples do. Nothing _actually_ happened.

_Resist, resist, resist. _

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." her voice was apologetic.

_Ah, so that's what it was about; Granger being the perfect woman she was, all modest and nice._

Instead of replying, Draco gathered the velvety blanket from the bed and draped it over her shoulders, a gesture so modest yet protective, it even left Draco himself baffled in the aftermath. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes closing. He reached to hold her at arm's length and then, ever so slowly, look up to meet her soft eyes. "Get some sleep." he bent forward and kissed her on the forehead, his lips lingering on her chilled skin for almost a full minute. Hermione felt herself closing her eyes, only reopening when he moved away from her, it suddenly felt cold without his embrace, without him.

Without another word, Draco pulled over the black jumper on his torso and made his way to the door. Hermione still don't move from her place; small hands grasping onto the blanket tightly.

"Draco?"

His blond head turned back to her.

_Won't you sleep in the same bed as me? Won't you let me hold you when you scream in your nightmares tonight? Won't you kiss me goodnight?_

"I love you." and somehow, just those three words spoke for everything.

She caught a ghost of smile on his lips, clearly relaxed. "God, you're gonna be the death of me." he mumbled just loud enough for him to hear and then, he was taking long strides in her direction and was already kissing her like a madman in love.

"I don't think that word does justice for what I feel towards you Granger." they heard lightning and then, another massive roar of thunder slicing the cold December air. Thick droplets of rain smacked against the glass windows with the ever so often rumbling of thunder in the background.

"I know it doesn't." Hermione surprised herself with her reply. "But I know our eyes tell a different story, Draco."

**_**

At about five in morning, Draco found himself in the small kitchen the dorm roofed. Hermione was soundly sleeping in their bed. (instead of sleeping in separate rooms, they had decided to share; ever so often switching between Draco's and Hermione's)

Now, sitting atop the small marble counter sipping the cool transparent liquid, Draco found himself slowly drifting towards his past. Losing his mother a few days ago had been a painful reminder of the nasty aftereffects the war had come with. Even though Voldemort and his army had been defeated, this new aura of conspiracy created enough havoc in his mind to make him cringe. His mind went back to what his mother had said that day at the Manor. Before she had died, she had told him that Voldemort was rising again but how could that be? Potter had defeated him, everyone witnessed the greatest wizard of all time turn into nothing but dust and ashes, then how was this possible? Draco had already deduced why his mother had died; it was as evident as daylight, he wondered why hadn't McGonagall concluded that already.

Narcissa Malfoy had died because she had broken an unforgivable vow— she had been fine before she had confessed about Voldemort's uprising.

Only a fool wouldn't pick it up.

But the part where he was more interested in was not the _why_ but the _how_.

How was this possible?

It was as if the gods above had heard his curious mind—a shiny blue merged with an angelic white cat appeared before him. At first, Draco was thoroughly confused but then, he heard it. "Draco, come see me, now." it took the creature only mere seconds to combine itself with the chilly winds and then, it was gone.

Though he had recognized the voice to be McGonagall's, he wasn't quite sure what kind of magic that had been.

And then, as if someone had dropped a bag of brick on his head, it clicked.

A patronous.

Of course he wouldn't have guessed that right away, it was magic for the good people, the people who were better than him and those who fought for the light. How utterly foolish of him to even entertain the possibility of thinking of producing, let alone recognizing a patronous right away.

Draco shook his head before walking towards Hermione who was still sleeping soundly without a care in the world, her wild curls made an oddly a shaped halo above her head with arms clutching onto a pillow tightly. Draco allowed himself to take in her beautiful form for a minute. He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her temple, snatched his wand from the bedside table before going out of the dorm. As he practically ran towards the headmistress' office, his mind conjured all sorts of explainations as to how Voldemort indeed was rising from the dead. Draco only hoped that McGonagall would be able to tell him one for sure rather than the absurd theories in his head.

By the time he made it to the front door of the huge office, McGonagall could already be seen in the hallway, her back turned to him as she paced the small space with as much calmness as she could muster.

But you could see the fear in her eyes.

Draco suddenly stopped.

"Professor." his voice was hoarse, he didn't care one bit.

Upon seeing the blond, McGonagall immediately lost her calm little by little. Whether it was the frantic movement of her hands or the fact that she couldn't conjure a single coherent word to tell the boy before her. Draco noticed how her eyes looked red as if this matter with Voldemort had kept her up more nights than she would admit. Her hair wasn't pulled back into the neat low bun it always happened to be, he could see several grey hairs sticking out of their place, too.

Draco had never seen her like this before.

Minerva McGonagall had been all about composure, rationalization and vindication.

Now, seeing her like this, Draco was starting to question his own thoughts about his teacher.

It was something about her that made his heart pace twice as fast as before.

"Professor, what happened?" he slowly etched forward, palms held up as if trying to tell a child that there was no need to worry, I am here to help you.

When she didn't speak, he knew that it was very bad news. He had predicted that it was bad news already but never in a million years had he predicted it to be this bad judging by the look on her face. McGonagall slipped off her glasses, pinched the bridge of her nose and put the glasses back on.

Even though Draco was reaching point break, he forced himself to remain steady.

One of them had to be rational right now.

And he chose to be just that.

"Professor," Draco's voice trembled with a fear he didn't know he housed in his mind, he was losing it before even knowing what was going on. He came ahead to stand right next to her as McGonagall, without another word, opened her office door and ushered him inside. Things like these, Draco debated in his mind, could only be told in the confinement of four walls, the more the better.

Wordlessly, both of them made their way inside. Immediately, Draco was thankful for the warming spells placed inside, coming barefoot in a jumper and trousers wasn't really the most proper thing to wear when wandering the castle.

"It's true."

Draco didn't even hear her until she was standing right before him, taking deep breath to remain calm.

His eyes widened, the storm in his heart never subsidized.

And for the first time in forever, the invisible ache behind two words settled in his heart, the finality of it, the message of war, the horrible aftermath that would follow, the lives that would be taken, the childhoods that were going to be snatched away, everything.

He couldn't speak a single word, yet, his mind formed full logic of every single thing uttered then and there.

Taking her cue to speak as she watched Draco struggle, McGonagall sighed. "It's true." she repeated, "Voldemort is rising again. Your mother was right. She died trying to save you from the dark lord. Narcissa Malfoy had broken the unforgivable vow only to tell you to keep yourself safe."

That much, he had already known.

Instead, his mind went to her earlier statement.

"How— how do you know this is all true?" he finally managed to say after what felt like hours. His throat was strangely dry and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with sand, making him utterly miserable to even speak a word.

The headmistress closed her eyes. Truth was, she didn't have words to explain the horror she had just come to know moments before she had called in Draco.

But she would try.

"I went to Azkaban."

Cringe.

Draco's face twisted in a scorn, as if the place held the worst memories for him, which, indeed, was true; his father had been there all this time.

"Why would you—" but was cut off.

"Ever since that incident at the Manor, I've been asking around. Asking anyone of my most trusted acquaintances and friends to report me anything at all about any odd behaviour going on in their divisions; whether that be the Ministry of Magic, Three Broomstick, Azkaban, whatever. It was a small leap, a very small leap, Mr. Malfoy but after almost a week of futile attempts, I've finally been led to a pointer which happened to be Azkaban." Draco was thoroughly confused by the time she looked back at him from peering on the floor.

"What did you get?"

At that, she fell silent again, but thank god, it had only been a few seconds.

"All the deatheaters The Order captured during the war," she trailed, looking carefully at Draco for his reaction. "Their death marks were also burning, much similar to yours."

It was as if someone had pulled the ground from right under him, cracked it open and buried him deep inside. He had been so caught up with her own death mark, he hadn't even entertained the possiblity of all the other death eaters experiencing the same.

Nothing left his mouth during the whole time. He poised himself to have an open mind about this whole crucible.

"Their marks have been burning since last night, that's why I had been there; seeing the scene of myself because it was just so unbelievable to the ears." she had managed to collect herself a bit during the time but one could still see the hint of threat in her eyes.

"Was my—" he manged to let out, couldn't even speak his mind.

McGonagall gave him a pitiful look. "That's about the reason I called you in here except for informing you about the situation with the death eaters of Azkaban." she pointed him to sit down which he did wordlessly. Something told her that what she was about to tell him could absolutely crush him. "I'm afraid your father wasn't there. Whoever is trying to bring back Voldemort from the dead, took your father from his cell. I saw the streaks of blood on the walls myself. I'm so sorry." she paused, patted his shoulder almost sadly. She couldn't imagine what he was going through; first his mother and now, even his father.

But Draco remained emotionless.

On the outside.

On the inside, his heart was feeling an overwhelming sensation that made him want to scream his fucking lungs out. Maybe he hadn't loved his father, let alone liked him, or maybe intolerant of his presence in the same room as him but he would never have wished for his death. The fact that he was what he was today was because of his father had made him loathe his father like a madman, like a murder on the loose, frantical and frenzied but never would he wish _actual_ death for the poor bastard. Slowly but surely, he was coming to realise that people made mistakes— friends, family, everyone, and that was okay. This didn't mean even the slightest bit, that it was okay for his father to force him into taking the death mark and dumping this life of darkness on him, a life he never asked for, a life he would give anything away to not have.

But death? Dear lord, no.

He himself hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore that night at the Astronomy Tower, how could he wish for his own father's death?

"—Take all the time you need, it's been hard for you, I can't imagine what it is like for you, you lost your parents, your godfather—" McGonagall was speaking and he was blinking up at her.

_Snape_.

_Why didn't he think of the old virgin before? _

Suddenly all too eager for answers than ever before. Maybe his father's death had pushed the final button of his impatience or maybe it was the fact that the headmistress had practically laid out everything right before him.

"We need to go." he didn't look back, didn't even take a second look at the place or his teacher.

When he frantically advanced towards the fireplace, looking for the floo powder, it was only then that McGonagall caught up on his actions. She gathered a large amount of green powder from the mantel and handed it to him before taking a handful amount herself.

"What is this all about?" the witch managed to let out.

"Malfoy Manor!" he roared instead, the green flames licking his existence clean. Minerva didn't even have time to scold him as she watched him disappear. She heaved a sigh before entering the fireplace for herself. "Malfoy Manor." she boomed, and then, she was being wrapped in thick green flames.

The headmistress opened her eyes to see picth black. She drew her wand from her robes, muttering a faint lumos just when Draco lightened the tip of his wand.

Before McGonagall could speak, Draco was already running up the stairs so she forced herself to follow him.

In a parallel mind to hers, Draco muttered all kinds of profanities under his breath. He slipped a few times as well as hit some pieces of furniture on his spree to locate the gigantic library that the Manor resided. He had to get there, everything else could wait. He could near McGonagall yelling in the background but he honestly couldn't give less of a fuck. Right now, he needed answers, everything else, like he said, could wait.

_How was Voldemort rising again?_

_Who was the mastermind behind this whole plan?_

_Why did they kill his father?_

_Was this some sort of a personal attack meant only for him? _

Questions and more questions, yet no answers.

But hey had a lead, oh Merlin, he had a lead.

From the moment McGonagall had voiced his godfather's name mere moments ago, Draco had felt like an utter fool. Why hadn't he thought of this before? It was true after all, where there was a will, there was a way and his hunger for answers at this point served perfectly for his ambitions in the near future.

Draco craned his necks round the dark place, scanning familiar rooms as he went by them. He knew the Manor like the back of his hand, it shouldn't have taken this much time but the darkness surrounding him slowed him down.

Finally locating the room, Draco yelled, "In here!" just so McGonagall would know where to find him in this huge place, she had to, after all, see this for herself.

Seconds later she came in running towards him, her breathing raged and eyes confused. She was probably wondering why the fuck had he set on a spree after the horrible news she had given him. Well, the answers lied within the four walls they were about to enter.

Draco was about to step inside when McGonagall grabbed him by the fabric of his jumper, clearly pissed. Her mouth was set in a grim line and Draco knew better than to mess with her at that moment. "What the, pardon my language, hell is going on?"

Draco used precious seconds to recover as she let go of his jumper, still waiting for answers.

"You said it yourself, my godfather." Draco tried to reason, pushing himself further into the dark room. He looked around the jaded place, dust loitering around like second skin to the numerous books and shelves. When McGonagall didn't speak, he took the liberty to talk again. "As he was my godfather, my mother insisted that we keep a portrait of him in the library. After the war, Snape was considered a hero and also, the biggest traitor to Voldemort, but since Voldemort was dead by then, my mother saw no reason than to not put up a portrait of him here. Look!" he almost yelled in shock as a familiar body walked around from amongst the many portraits on the wall. The greasy haired man disappeared from one portrait only to emerge into a new one. It was still very dark but she could see the familiar pointy face staring right back at her with similar disgust to mirror to his days from the undead.

"And which better person to ask around about Voldemort than his very own right-hand man?" Draco reasoned with the woman who, for some reason, couldn't quite look away from the portrait of the former potions' teacher.

"He must know something we don't, professor. If not, we have to at least try." Draco practically begged her, for what, he didn't know.

"I was wondering when you would come seeking me," a flat voice drawled from the background.

And then, she saw for herself.

"Minerva." Snape's gloomy voice filled the air, it was still razor sharp, just as Draco remembered.

It took a minute or two. "Severus."

"I wish we had met under different circumstances, you know, without the threat of war lingering in thin air. Mind you, all over again." he spoke, adjusting his black robes and sighing, as if he was done with the universe as a whole.

McGonagall finally gathered her composure, moments later, she was talking to the portrait, leaving Draco wonder how she recovered from the shock so quickly?

"So it is true," She wondered aloud.

"Yes, it is. I knew this day would come, sooner or later." Snape brushed his hands on his robes and remained seated in his huge luxurious chair.

"Impossible," worded Draco from the other side of the room. "How could you have known?"

Instead of paying him his mind, he simply looked at him with a pointed look he was so well known for.

"Tell your student Minvera," he started with gritted teeth, "To not question the Dark Lord's most trusted and the most disloyal servant."

McGonagall shot him a look that meant murder.

"Severus, please, you need to help us. I know you are the most likely person who could have any sort of answers to our questions." the witch sounded defeated. With a final look of desperation, she added, "I can't lose my students again, Severus."

Snape seemed to think about the situation for a moment. He took his time, examining his long slender fingers and then his black robes for any imperfection to the naked eye. Meanwhile, Draco and McGonagall stood their ground, impatient but refusing to back down. Just when they were sure he wasn't going to open his mouth, Snape surprised them yet again.

"You know, I can't quite believe it Minerva, you being so thick." his drawled in a bored tone.

This response equally confused Draco just as much as it did McGonagall.

The pair exchanged a look of puzzlement at his words.

"How can you not see exactly what is going on here, Minerva?" they watched him stand up from his seat and move from one portrait to another.

"Stop talking in riddles, Severus. I know exactly what's going on here and what exactly will happen if we don't act accordingly! People are going to die, homes are going to be destroyed, childhoods are going to be snatched away, lives would be absolutely wrecked! So don't you dare tell me that I am oblivious to the fact of chaos lingering in thin air! I've been here before, and I am here now. Only this time, I wish to know beforehand so I can save the lives from being thrashed. I wish to know this time if I can help them so do tell me Severus, is that so wrong of me?" her nostrils flared, Draco, who had been bitting down his tongue to avoid speak something treacherous, gulped audibly.

Snape's expression was a mixture of empathy and reluctance by now.

Draco didn't know what to deduce from that.

"What I am trying to say is that," he stopped, breathed. "The only reason this gruesome person is trying to bring back the dark lord from the dead is because they know that there is still hope." he reasoned.

"Hope? How is there hope? Potter defeated him, how can there still be hope after that?" Draco's eyes turned to slit, he was having a hard time digesting all these riddles and frankly, it was getting on his nerves.

"Dense boy," he heard Snape mutter under his breath and then turn to McGonagall.

"There is an ninth Horcrux, if you haven't figured it out yet." the finality in his voice was frightening.

And maybe just maybe, the one in Draco's eyes matched the one in his voice.

**_**

**I bet you didn't see that coming. I know what you're thinking, this book is just so full of surprises. Well, fasten your seat belts beacsue you ain't seen nothing yet.**

**Special thanks to me for finally writing a new chapter, kudos.**

**If you have any theories, drop them here. Let's hear your point of view as to what is happening and what will happen next in the story.**

**I am not sure how many chapters this will have but we are reaching the climax, let's hope you stick around and witness the truth with your own eyes. ;)**

**As always, drop a review and a vote if you liked it! Looking forward to hear your thoughts on this! Don't hold back!**

**All the love, me.**


	19. 17 Unsatisfactory Answers (part two)

**Just a quick note that this book is termed mature so please don't comment stuff like "omg are they gonna have sex" or "they are only teenagers! This isn't appropriate" girl, this is fiction, what did you expect? P.S. Major sexual themes in this chapter somewhere in the middle/end, skip if you want to.**

Draco's mind was hurting with all this new information. It was like an endless swirl of smokey memories, more like fragments, which he did and did not remember at the same time. For instance, the memory of lying to Bellatrix at the Manor when she told him to confirm if it really was Potter or not with the deformed face before him, it was still vivid in his mind— but then, there was another piece of a dream which though wasn't actually reality, still managed to make Draco feel like it had happened to him somewhere in his past. It was somewhere around tmore like fragments, which he did and did not remember at the same time. For instance, the memory of lying to Bellatrix at the Manor when she told him to confirm if it really was Potter or not with the deformed face before him, it was still vivid in his mind— but then, there was another piece of a dream which though wasn't actually reality, still managed to make Draco feel like it had happenedhe time of his first year at Hogwarts. He had been buying school books with his father at Flourish and Bolts. It was only then that he saw Weasley, who not only just came up to him at the store with a thick stack of books on one hand, but also extended a hand of friendship towards him with a smile.

He knew that hadn't actually happened.

It wasn't the friendship initiative that made Draco realise it was a dream, it was rather the fact that Ron Weasley had managed to get himself decent and first edition books.

_How could Weasley even afford to go in there in the first place? He was as poor as a gingernut. Wasn't he supposed to get hand-me-down books from his oh so big family tree?_

"What the fuck?" Draco looked at the empty portrait where Snape had stood just moments ago. He didn't care if his headmistress was giving him a daunting look at the use of his language, all he did, however, know was that he needed to find out more. "What? Where did he go?" he turned around to locate seven more potriats to his back, five more to his left and finally, an additional three to his right. And it was so dark, match that with his black robes and it would be a nightmare to find him in here, even if he used a lumos, the light still wouldn't have been enough bright to search through all the sixteen portraits in the room.

He cast one glance at McGonagall who, for some reason, had her mouth pressed in a thin line and eyes closed.

_Gee, if it's not dark enough in here already, Draco rolled his eyes._

Taking matters in his own hands, he stalked forward, blasting off a lumos after lumos from his wand as he searched through the portraits. He didn't understand if this was the time to be playing games, why didn't Snape understand that? "Bloody hell! Where tge fuck are you?!" his voice was booming and he was scared— even a minute wasted felt like a huge burden. Who knew how many lives could be saved by a minute's importance? Draco sure as hell didn't want to find out.

Finally pulling herself togther, McGonagall followed suit; searching the portraits on her left as Draco took the ones ahead. It felt as if the rook was getting darker and darker by the minute, both of them had to act quick.

"This isn't the time for your games, Severus!" McGonagall ripped off yellowed sheet from another portrait. "People are dying and more will die if you continue to act like this tattered child!"

And then, they heard it— a faint sigh.

Both Draco and McGonagall turned their heads simultaneously to the back. There stood Snape with a thick book in his hands, casually flipping through the pages as if he hadn't caused complete havoc for the two of them mere minutes ago. "Are you two just going to stand there or are you both interested in finding out about this new horcrux?" he sounded bored, like always. Draco looked at McGonagall at the same time she turned her head towards him. With an affirming nod from their sides, both made their way towards the initial portrait that Snape had resided in. "Just so you know, I wasn't playing any games, however fun that may sound. I went to get this forbidden fruit for you." on cue, he flashed the thick, leather covered book at them.

"Where did you get that from?" Draco decided to break the ice. He had known all the books in both the gigantic libraries the Manor housed, not once had he come across the one Snape was holding. It was an old book or so said the yellow pages and the worn out cover, as if it had been soaked in water almost every single day. To see a book like that still serving its purpose was a complete shocker.

"From the restricted of the restricted section of your beautiful home." Snape snarled. Even though his voice had a menacing edge to it, Draco didn't dare to say otherwise. "Your mother," Snape started, Draco cringed. "Kept a very private room on the second floor, in the very east wing of the Manor. I'm sure you remember." he recalled his mother ever mentioning it, going to it, heck, anything at all but his mind was blank. Sensing this, Snape started again. "Ah! How can I forget? You were a stupid little boy who couldn't be told no. Of course you found your way towards that room, being your annoying and bratty self. She had you obiliviated of that memory, I recall now."

Draco was sure that the ground beneath his feet cracked. This couldn't be true. Why would his mother obliviate him just because he had found his way to a stupid little room? "That's impossible. Why would she rid me off my memory for finding a stupid room? So it was a private place for her, big deal." he looked at McGonagall who kept a straight face. Draco couldn't believe it— she actually thought this bullshit was true, at least she was considering it to be true!

"Stupid boy—" Snape started.

"Look, you're dead now. The least you can do is be respectful of your only godchild. You keep calling me names and I haven't even been in your presence for an hour!" Draco shouted to which, of course, Snape showed no interest. He seemed to totally ignore him next and then turn to the headmistress. Just when Draco scoffed and folded his arms, wand tucked in between his fingers, Snape started talking again.

"It wasn't about the room, you git!" Draco opened his mouth to retort, even readying a punch to see if you could actually punch someone in a portrait but McGonagall held his arm, stopping him just in time. "It was about what the room held! Don't you understand? Your mother was involved in the Darkest magic one could ever possibly imagine. She had started reading books on the Darkest of the Darkest magic, resurrections, summoning dark magic and it's creators by offering dead bodies as a sacrifice. She could not let you or anyone else find out about it!" Draco remained muted, his mind was everywhere and dear God, his heart was nowhere. "If you had found out that day, chances of you getting dragged into this whole mess would've skyrocketed, Malfoy. Who knows what could've happened. You're lucky that she obiliviated you, at least had the smallest sparks of decency to protect her child from all the mess she had created." he muttered the last part to himself. "The best guess could be, at that time, that she was trying to summon the Dark Lord."

McGonagall had a hard time digesting all this new information Snape had said, Draco, however, had a harder time.

"That's absurd." McGonagall saved him the trouble of speaking. "Why would she try to summon the Dark Lord when she warned her own son to save himself from the exact same person?" Well, thank Merlin for good brains. What had been on Draco's mind, McGonagall spoke with such ease that it even made Draco question her telepathy, or maybe he was just taht transparent.

"I said, _at that time!_ Maybe her objectives changed when she realised what she was actually doing, how utterly despicable it was. She could've realised only then, the consequences it would bring about, therefore, stopping immediately and warning you off. Or maybe it wasn't to protect you, maybe she was trying feel less guilty by telling you. We can not know for sure. It's unfortunate that whatever secrets she held have gone with her." Snape concluded. His dark eyes fell on the book he held in his hands, his knuckles turning white as he continued to hold it tightly. "She was a good woman."

Now that, surprised both of them.

"She was a good woman, Narcissa. No matter how much you loathed her, or anybody else did, for the matter— she'd never endanger the life of her only child. That much I can tell you without a doubt. I knew her. Being a the most loyal servant to Voldemort made me closer to her as a person, thanks to my frequent trips to the Manor, which, at that time, was the main headquarters for the Dark Lord to commence his evil from. She'd never hurt you, Malfoy." he looked at him again, handed him the thick volume, completely surprising the two at an object coming out of a portrait. "I don't think she would've had the heart to summon the Dark Lord if she knew that he would come looking for you one day. Here, take this." he motioned to the book. It was worn out, had no title and almost a pain in the eyes to decipher anything from it from the blurred words which didn't even seem to be in English.

"This is the last thing she left in my possession before she destroyed the room herself a few months ago. She told me it was getting too dark, too suffocating." Snape said in a flat tone. "I didn't know what she meant then, now, I do. She was afraid what she had started would come her haunting back one day and she was right. It did come back, and it took her." a single tear fell from his eyes and he didn't even dare to wipe it away. It was the first time he had cried after having lost his mother, this time, the grief had actually settled deep within his heart, and it was spreading. He had been so strong, all this time. Eversince the woman who had birthed him had died right in his arms, Draco had been so hard on himself— forcing himself to be even stronger than his usual facade. But now, he had allowed himself to cry, to grief, to feel, to be whole and to be human.

Sometimes, we need someone else to tell us how kind hearted the people were who left us in order to grieve fully

And that was okay.

"I'm afraid that's all I can tell you." Snape eyes the boy before him, pity welling up in his heart. He couldn't fathom what it would like for him right now, going through this all over again— first with Voldemort and his post war scars and now his mother and the pain the news brought along with it. "You must decipher this book. I couldn't do it as I didn't have enough resources being stuck in these godforsaken walls with these damming portraits." he sighed, "But I believe I know a person who can do it, if not me."

_

"Hermione, kisses can wait, I swear, I have bigger prob—" But of course he didn't get to finish that sentence, thanks to his girlfriend giggling and kissing him all over the place. Draco didn't say that he minded it one bit, though. "Granger, time out, stop! Listen to me—" Hermione stood up on her bed so she towered over the tall boy, looking down at him, she pulled him up a little by the collar of his white shirt, lips colliding with lips to make him moan in ecstasy.

Hermione Granger gave the most addictive kisses, and that was a fact.

Draco soon realised that if he wanted to get his point across, he needed to comply, so he jumped on the bed himself and gathered the girl before him in his arms. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, enticing a soft moan from her. He dipped his tongue in the hollow of her collarbone and gently flicked it. "Is my dear girlfriend satisfied now?" The smirk on his lips never left, Hermione, however, kept her mouth lips parted, her eyes closed.

"Hermione?" Draco kept his arms wrapped around her figure. He feared that the moment he let her loose, she'd fall down. "Hermione?" He tried again but no response yet. Her eyes were closed and by the looks of it, she was either really tired or merely fooling around— Draco decided on the latter. If he needed to get her into work mode, he knew some things he could try in order to fulfill his motive. "Well would you look at that," he started, Hermione didn't even budge as Draco gently laid her down on the soft mattress, he noticed how she didn't let go of his hand throughout the whole thing. "I think you're tired babygirl," He smirked, gently detaching his hand from hers. "It's true after all, you overwork yourself. I'm sure a little sleep will be the best option for you right now. Just let me get that for you." his hands went to her skirt, gently pulling down the soft fabric. He kept his silver eyes on the girl before him for any sight of fear or uncomfort. A ghost of smile payed on her pink lips but she didn't move, not even when she felt him slide the whole fabric off her smooth legs. Hermione heard his suck in a breather but it was gone as quick as it had come.

_Serves him right, she thought. I wonder when he'll notice—_

"Granger, bloody hell." and he did notice, after all. Hermione smirked to herself. It's not her fault she was feeling so...hormonal today. She had read in book about stuff like this, all she wanted to do was find out if it was true or not. "Where in Merlin's name are you knickers?"

In response, Hermione only stirred. She pushed her legs a little further apart, very well knowing that Draco was watching her like a hawk. She teased him a bit more when she let her right hand travel down to her navel, suddenly opening her eyes and keeping them intact on Draco, who couldn't look anywhere else except the widening of her legs. She noticed his gaze irked towards her hand on her navel, venturing south and south to her abdomen— it happened so fast, Draco had her hand in his and he pulled her towards his hot body. With a jolt, Hermione found herself naked from the waist down on her boyfriend's lap— very well aware of the heat churning inside her body at the mere contact of skin on skin. Hermione allowed her eyes to flutter open and take a small peek at the pale boy's face before her. There he was, looking back at her with love-like eyes and heart clenching at the memory of midnight.

"Do you want to kill me, Granger?" he brushed a soft curl away from her face to take a better look in her warm eyes. His nose came next to hers, pressed together and their breaths mingling. What had started as soft messing around had turned into a hot erotic scene— and the night wasn't even over yet. Hermione put a hand to his chest, feeling the unsteady beating of his heart, being around her made Draco jump into a pool of ecstasy, she knew exactly which button is his to push to extract maximum pleasure out of him.

This was love, wasn't it? Saying all that you wanted to without even uttering a single word, because the sound of your heartbeat, the sweating of your palms, the knots in your stomach and trembling of your body told the whole story on their own.

"Maybe," Hermione started, she felt something poke her inner thigh from where she sat on top of him. It was no denying what she knew already. Instead of clamping up, she pressed a tender kiss to his lips, "Maybe I just want you to touch me, Draco." to say that the words were shocking would've been an understatement— they completely left Draco baffled but he did a good job of masking it, after all, whatever the lady wanted, right? This thing with Snape, McGonagall, Voldemort and the dark mark had left him little to no time to spend with Hermione. Many days they didn't even sleep together in the same bed, his routine had been badly damaged throughout this whole period. Maybe this was God's way of telling him to take a break.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." before she could look hurt at his words, Draco seized the liberty to grab her wrist in one hand whilst letting his other hsdn travel down to her sensitive naked folds. Hermione gasped as his fingers rested on her wet feminine folds, not moving but resting. She looked up to meet his eyes, only to find him looking back at her. He leaned forward, touching his lips to her ear just when he ran his finger over her wetness making her squirm. "But I will if you promise me I get a taste, too." without waiting for a response, Draco pressed his aching lips to hers, his tongue fighting for dominance just when Hermione let out another gasp. She wasn't actually expecting him to do it, to do anything, for the matter.

"Draco—" she moaned in between getting tackled by soft kisses; her lips and neck. He pressed his finger into her folds. It was only then that she realised the urgency her heart possessed in that moment. She could feel his breathing becoming faster with every passing second, it felt like vintage music to her ears— soft and blissful. Hermione allowed her body to shift a little in order to adjust to his view, she bit down on her lip just when his fingers started moving against her folds. Hermione threw her head back.

It felt like someone had injected a drug into her system; slowly but surely, she was losing all consciousness of her surroundings and her own self. She let out a louder moan when he started rubbing his thumb against her dropping flesh, it was absolutely maddening to think that not only had she allowed her uptight self to let loose for the night but also the fact that she had been the one two practically seduce him. "Draco," she whimpered as he increased his pace a bit more, he flipped her on her back on the bed, trapping her form with his. His forehead was sweating and she could hear the erratic beating of his heart, and dear God, it was such a big turn on. "Draco—" she squirmed again but Draco shushed her with an urgent kiss to her lips, biting down her bottom lip to the extent of nearly drawing blood.

"Not now," he panted against her sweaty skin, his fingers expertly moving against her felsh until she was screaming his name in agony and utter pleasure.

"Draco! I— Ah!" she screamed under his body but he didn't stop, the screams just kept on getting louder and louder. "Oh God, Draco— I think I'm going to—" but before she could finish her sentence, he had already withdrawn his fingers from her folds. Hermione watched in utter confusion (and anger) as he pretended as if nothing has happened just mere seconds ago! She was about to scream when she suddey stopped. Draco looked at her once in the eye and then, he was already crawling toward her on all fours. Hermione gulped, something about the lust in his eyes told her that he wasn't done yet. When he was finally face to face with the witch, he smothered a kiss on her mouth, "My God, aren't you just beautiful."

Hermione didn't know what to make of that statement so she only continued to look at him with a confused face. And then, she saw it. He ran his tongue over his bottom lips before crawling back to his place. Draco didn't break eye contact with his with as she popped the first two buttons of his white shirt, and then, south he went to reveal his slender pale body. "You've been a very vad girl today, Granger. I had such an important thing to talk to you about and look where we are now." he chuckled dryly, "But I guess that can wait till you're thoroughly punished for your actions."

She finally found her voice. "And what is my crime?"

Draco clicked his tongue. "Being the perfect seductress, of course." and then, he had already attached his mouth south of her abdomen before Hermione had the chance to prepare. Whatever he had left from his actions, he was sure to finish it now. Hermione remembered screaming his name and pulling at his soft locks, urging him to be closer to her. His tongue flicked her folds, sucked the wetness and tasted all her delicious glory— it was chaotic, blissfly chaotic.

"Draco, I can't take it anym—" she threw her head back further into the pillows, eyes screwed shut, the pain was unbearable, but the pleasure made up for it.

Draco raised his head just a bit, looking at her through his leashes, "Then what's stopping you?"

It was only half a minute of more screaming until she finally came, and dear lord, did it destroy all fucking boundaries they had ever set.

**A/N: okay...initially I couldn't write this scene but I managed to, so I do not know how this turned out. Be a darling and please tell me how it was! I suppose we all were missing some spontaneous Dramione action so here's a treat!**

**My phone's battery is at 4% so I'll proofread this later, sorry for any mistakes!**

**Leave a vote and a review!**

**All the love, me.**


	20. 18 Garden of Eden

Post coital bliss had never felt so good, for both of them.

Even though the Malfoy heir hadn't actually penetrated her, it felt equally euphoric. Neither of them could remember when was the last time they had been pushed off their limits when it came to activities as such. When was the last time either of them had climaxed so quick, that it was actually embarrassing, not to mention, still, beatific. It was no secret that neither of them was a virgin; while Hermione had had her fair share of sexual situations with the youngest Weasley male, Draco could confirm his the equal delight he felt when he had shagged Pansy from when they were, what you would call, 'a thing'. Question was— why did this particular one moment felt endearing?

"Do you think that eating the apple was justified?" Draco suddenly breathed onto her skin. He was close, very close. She could almost feel his mouth pressed in a hard line against her shoulder blade. Hermione felt herself closing her eyes for a second, imagining his lips on her skin again, her lips parted and then, she sucked in a sharp breath. Opening her eyes, she realised that it was largely due to the fact that Draco's fingers were treading dangerous territory— down her shoulders towards her right breast. She couldn't see his face as he was behind her but she could almost feel him smiling against her neck. And then she remembered that he had asked her something.

"What?" she sounded dumb, it wasn't something she was used to.

"Did you think that eating the apple was justified? In the garden of Eden?" she sensed him sitting up, ever so softly, tracing the skin on the back with his slender fingers; drawing away absent mind patterns on her body. She made out a couple of wild waves from an ocean as he swooshed his fingers over her bare back, then, a heart, followed by another one, just below her neck. It was a teenage thing, being in love, doing silly things as such and then laughing about them when you grew up and remembered them. It was the circle of life. You gathered these small moments up in your brain and stored away the emotions you felt at that very moment in your heart, locked away, until you're ready to hold out the key in front of your face, wiggle it before your eyes and tempt this new person you've become— tempt them into opening that locked chamber once again after all those years and maybe, just maybe, become that person you once were, carefree, young, juvenile, happy and, above all, in love.

"Well?" he brought his lips up to her cheek and gave it a lingering kiss. In one swift motion, Draco gathered her effortlessly in his arms and spin her around on the bed so she was facing him. Eye to eye, brown to silver, love to destruction, hypnotic.

Draco kept his grip on her shoulders.

"Yes." she finally muttered, not knowing a sliver of what he was on about. For all she cared about, he could've asked her if the world revolved around the sun and she could've said, "No, you."

"I think that," she sat up, pulled a sheet over her naked body and turned to give him her full attention. Brushing a lock of platinum blond hair from his forehead, she sighed as she closed her eyes again. "That eating the apple was justified. Maybe perpetual happiness in the garden of Eden was extremely boring and I also think that Eve didn't want constant joy, nobody does. We all want pain to drive us, prolonged bliss seems too unreal, too monotonous. No, you want to the pain, too. I like to believe that she could tell something was fishy going on," at that they both broke into laughter, her heart clenched. "No! I am serious! Hear me out." Another laugh. "Nobody believes in everlasting ethereal, not even Eve." she kissed his cheek, slow and steady.

Draco regarded the witch before him with a new kind of feeling— a feeling that made his heart race; not in the panic kind of way he had been subjected to all his life but the loveable kind of way, like magic but it was internal; splashing a soft and subdued sectumsempra at his heart rather than emitting from the tip one's wand externally. It was so new, all of this stuff involving feelings and emotions. He couldn't help but contemplate when he would fuck up because that was, after all, inevitable. Having absolutely no experience of such behaviors to adopt to, Draco knew he would fuck up. His only hope was that Hermione won't let him, not in the first place. Truth be told, he didn't know why he had asked her that question. Considering that he had actually come in here to ask her about the book Snape gave him to decipher recommending who other than the brightest witch of her age? But he had wanted to know, he had wanted to know if she could make that connection he was hoping her to.

Could she see that she was indeed, Eve? - That the forbidden apple was the love they shared for each other? That he was the sin she had taken up her sleeve the moment she had enchanted him with their first kiss even after being told not to by so many people?

Guess even a mind as complex as Granger's could not take such a leap, but it didn't matter, for he knew and that was enough.

"Ah, but you're forgetting the temptation of sin, of breaking the rules, going against what you've been told all your life." Draco was satisfied to see the shock wash over her, so she hadn't considered that aspect after all. Why would she, though? She was a good girl, always went by the rules. Why bother with that part when you didn't even intend to do it in the first place?

"Go on." Hermione encouraged him. She pulled her bottom lip on between her teeth. Draco realised that she was leaning in, closer and closer.

"Well," the Slytherin started, "You can't overlook the aspect of it being a sin. God specifically told her not to eat it. He told her not to, even then, she did it. Do you know why?"

When she didn't speak he took the opportunity to stand up on his feet and stretch his soaring limbs over his head. It had indeed been a rather rough night for the both of them. He still couldn't believe what they had done just hours ago. Like he said, so new, all of this. "I'll give you a hint, it may or may not have something to do with you. Come to think of it, you and Eve have got quite much in common." with that, he went outside on nothing but his jeans hanging loose from his hips, it was a truly orgasmic sight.

Hermione sat dumbfounded.

Did he just walk out on her in the middle of the talk? He walked out on her, period? Just when she was about to throw a tantrum, he returned with a thick volume in his hands. His slender fingers securely wrapped around the spine. It was an old book with leather covers, a hardback like the ones used to have in their libraries in probably ancient medieval times. By the time he brought the item directly in her line of sight, she noticed that the yellowed pages were ready to fall any given moment now. It looked like it had been dipped into the Pacific Ocean and had been left there for a lifetime. The fact that it could still be recognized as a book was beyond her. The debate on Eve and the forbidden fruit was suddenly the last thing Hermione wanted to talk about. This new article before her seemed more intriguing than anything else she had laid her eyes upon for quite some time now. She knew that books likes this held the epitome of knowledge.

Guilty as charged, Hermione Granger was truly hungry for all the knowledge she could get her hands upon.

"What's this?" she sat up straighter and pulled Draco's shirt from under the pillow where it was half hidden. Putting it on, she tossed her curly hair to one side and grabbed the volume in her hands, her fingers running over the rough surface.

"A book." he said stupidly.

Hermione gave him a "are you serious" look.

This was the hardest part— how on earth did he start this conversation? Hermione had no idea of his frequent escapades to the Manor with McGonagall, she had no real idea of what was going on with him, of his mother's death, or the fact that his dark mark had made his life a living hell even when he had assured her that it was nothing? He hadn't actually lied to her but dear God, it felt even more horrible than actually lying. It was very important that he chose his words carefully. "Look Granger—"

"Oh so we're back to Granger now? Lovely." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

So that wasn't the smartest thing to start with.

"Hermione," he dragged each perfect syllable, "You know that I've been..."

"Keeping secrets? Lying? Being oh so private? Yeah, I know, what next?" she supplied with such ease that it made him quiver. Dating Hermione Granger was an art itself, it was like a rough canvas that had to be smoothed out every now and then because you just couldn't find the heart to ruin the big picture. The end result was worth it, and that was why he still tried.

"It's for your own—" he tried.

"Good yes, I've heard that one too," she skimmed through the pages, roughly pushing her untamed curls behind her ears ever so often as she tried to make out even one word in the uncanny book. Her slim fingers flicked through the pages as she paid little to no mind what Draco was saying, her full focus now on the book.

"Look, if you keep on interrupting me I'm going take that back," Draco jerked his head slightly towards the book held tightly in her hands. At that, her eyes hardened.

Good, now we're on the same page.

"At least tell me you're not going to use it for a dark purpose." her eyes searched for sincerity in his, it was momentarily relief to know that she was not going to ask more questions, not now at least, he had been planning on telling her though, it was a good thing he could do it at his own pace. "Never again." he managed to tuck away the wild curl she had been struggling with minutes ago and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. No, he wasn't the naive boy now who he once was, the same boy who had cowardly followed behind the evil monster with only by a push from his father, no he was better than that. A year had changed him, and maybe, just maybe, it had to do a lot with the girl sitting before him, eyes soft and lips parted. "I just don't want you to get hurt." just when he thought that he couldn't fall more in love with her, she throws that at him. How did she expect him to function with so many new feelings swirling inside him like a whirlpool, a whirlpool of emotions?

"I won't." Draco promised her taking her hand in his, it fit in like clockwork. "Not if you help me deduce a thing or two about this book. A trusted source has recommended you next in command to do it, he was sure you won't disappoint." he gave her a small grin, "Yes Hermione, I'm talking about Snape, he lives in a portrait now. You can close your mouth now," on cue, he pushed her jaw up with the finger of her free hand, still keeping the other one in her own.

"Oh wow— I have so many questions, how did he—"

"I'm sure we can discuss that later baby, right now, however," Draco cast one glance at her face and then down to the book on her hand, "The key to saving the world all over again lies right in your hands so please, be a good girl and do your boyfriend a favour already." he could tell she had questions, bloody hell it was Hermione Granger, of course she would have a huge pile of them. The key, though, was to save them for later when they were tangled together in the comfort of the soft sheets and smiling like love sick teenagers, he'd tell her the whole story then, right now, they had bigger problems and Merlin knew how much time they had left up their sleeves. They had already been slacking so much.

"Okay, okay, okay, I have no idea what that mean and I'm hoping you're going to tell me soon enough so I don't look like a complete idiot in the aftermath." her eyes roamed the pages, she recognized the text to be Latin, but then, flicking open another page she realised that it was in Hebrew. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached the end of the whole book only to find out that the entire book had been written in different languages. The text ranged from Latin to Hebrew to finally French, and this was only the ones she could barely make out given the smudged pages, the characters were difficult to highlight in such circumstances but she had done it, no wonder Snape had recommended her for the task, he had known she would've been able to do it. Hermione snatched the wand off the bedside table and hit the book with a soft blue light, it was a spell completely unknown to Draco, so he just sat there watching her, clearly impressed but not surprised, he knew she would've been the perfect one to take over such a tricky task.

"Look-" Hermione gasped, Draco looked down to see words starting to appear on one of the yellowed pages, standing bold as they rose from the pages only slightly, much like braille, you could touch the words and feel the text. She used the same spell on the next five pages, out of which, only three worked, the rest, still smudged and barely recognizable if not for the characters of the script alone. "Well, there must be a different spell for the rest of the pages,we got lucky on our first try, got to keep trying." she gave Draco an apologetic look and he could've sworn that he had wanted to knock some sense into her, couldn't she see that she had managed to get three pages in readable condition?!

Not even McGonagall had done that!

"What do the three pages say? You got any idea?" Draco leaned over her shoulder as be tried to get a better look at the words, not even getting one bit. Each page had one small paragraph on either sides, leaving the rest of the page completely blank. It seemed to be some kind of instruction set given that they had been numbered, that much he could tell.

"Grab my book from the shelf outside. It says Advanced Latin Learning. I bought it years ago, didn't actually go through the full thing, might come in handy now." as she had instructed, Draco reflected accordingly. Seconds later, he came back with another thick book which Hermione practically yanked out of his embrace, flipping through the pages and occasionally coughing thanks to the dust accumulated over it past all these years.

"Scourgify." Draco pointed his wand at the book.

"Thanks, ugh, love you." she pouted and Draco chuckled.

Her eyes went back to the two books again. "Right, so let's do this. I'm sure we can decipher at least one of these, considering that these are six on total, one on either side of the page, let's just pick the smallest one, that way we can use less characters and create less hassle." she turned to Draco who only held up his hands, "You're the expert, Ms Granger."

With a nod of affirmation, Hermione picked the paragraph on the second page's back side. It had only three lines, was honestly the best option out of the rather longer ones on the other pages. The book she had ordered Draco to bring served as a dictionary to translate each word, took her some time but she knew that she was getting there. Although the words didn't form one coherent sentence, she still wrote the words in English above the text for each word, given the fact that sentence structuring would be different in Latin than in English due to differences in tenses and words themselves.

It was only when she crossed out the last word, she tried to put together to words on a rational sentence, with Draco leaning behind her.

"This doesn't make any sens—" but Draco had already snatched the quill from her hands and scribbled the words himself. He wanted to formulate a sentence so bad right now, now that he knew that at least he wasn't treading in open waters for nothing now, it had to make sense, some kind of sense, after all.

Draco pressed the quill to the book again.

I've done my work, I've done my work, I've done my work.

The same line had been repeated thrice, thus, not taking much time to be deducted but what did it mean?

"Hermione." he hissed, his hands freezing, "You missed one last word." Hermione followed his gaze down to spot where he was staring. A simple word to the eyes but no meaning in the books.

"I couldn't find that in the book. Why? What is it?" when he didn't speak for a while, Hermione started to panic. What was so bad about this? Had she missed something?

"Draco?" but he wasn't listening, his eyes were trained on that one word at the end of the page, a signing off, a ritual, a tradition.

He remembered he had done the same.

"That's because it's not a word." he stated, voice shaking as the book dropped from his hands and suddenly, he felt lightheaded, his world was spinning and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was wait for the spinning giddiness to either envelope him in its embrace or pray for it to stop, be didn't know which one was better. He made out Hermione screaming his name in the background and trying to shake him out off this limbo state he was pushed into but he didn't know if it was working.

Hermione had now picked up the book and judging by the look on her face, he knew that she had read the word he had scribbled right over the foreign text.

Dolohov.

He could recognize that secret name anywhere, no matter what text had he used.

It wasn't just a plain book no, it was the journal of the death eaters themselves. One that Bellatrix had kept all these years, he remembered it now, how she used to torture each individual and to express her feelings of gratitude to the Dark lord, keep a journal to have him updated on what every death eater was doing in order to improve her loyalty towards the dark lord, how many people they killed, how many did they plan on killing in the coming days, how many children and women specifically killed.

And what did Dolohov mean by this? Had he been referring to killing people too?

Draco remembered being hit by a half hitted stupefy when he was a young teen just because he had decided to peer into the journal for curiosity's sake. His mother had come in between the mad woman and him just in time to take half the blow, how he remembered now.

The journal had severed as a tool to trigger his memory, the same memory his mother had washed away many years ago.

Oh what was he going to do now?

Hi, I'm not dead. Vote and comment if you liked this, I worked so hard on this! Love, me.


	21. 19 Oh, Honey!

**Okay so I think you guys deserve an explanation for me not updating this story (or any) since last month. Well, as you all know I'm in my second year of college and it's really hard. For those of you who are in their colleges and universities, I'm sure you can understand the pressure. I had my college exams and my SAT and let me tell you, it was one hell of a ride. I needed to focus on them so I had to sacrifice writing for a little while. I've been so busy with studies that I even found a co-owner to run my Instagram account. Not saying that the burden is fully gone but hey, it's gone down a significant bit, especially after the SAT. I mean, at least it's over. For those you who do not know (mostly everyone outside of America) many universities require SAT, a test, for you to get an admission there so it's extremely vital that you get it great. Again, I'm so sorry for not updating but yes, I have my ideas ready with this fic to get you all screaming. I don't think anyone of you guys knows what's going to happen next. All I can say is that put on your seat belts and tighten your knickers, I don't want you all dead or wet anytime soon. ;)**

**HAPPY READING! Please leave a review. This is my redemption chapter, don't hold back the criticism.**

Draco wished, more than anything else in the world right now, that all this would end as quick as the blink of the eye. All he wanted, was to wake up in his bed one rainy day, free of all nightmares the Dark Lord and his conquests had caused him with his arms tangled around the Gryffindor witch he had grown to love. Was that really too much to ask? Perhaps it was, considering that his perpetually happy fantasy seemed nowhere near to be fulfilled anytime soon. Rather, someone was trying to bring back the Dark Lord and as far as he knew, the world was falling apart.

And he didn't have a single insight on the matter apart from a rotten journal from his crazy aunt which, safe to say, was not coming into shape any time soon. While Hermione had been able to solve the main mystery behind the journal's existence, they were still as clueless as before. Though they had the journal, figuring out the words in it was proving to be the most difficult thing they had ever encountered till now. Of course, they had told McGonagall the moment they had translated Dolohov's words. The headmistress had looked like she had seen a ghost, Draco thought back. Her hands actually froze whilst pouring the tea into the small floral cup when they had barged into her office and told her.

Maybe she had hoped all along, just like Draco that this was all just a bad dream. And hearing that it wasn't just took a toll on her.

"Are you absolutely certain that this-- this is—" She couldn't even voice the sentence.

Draco looked at Hermione, hoping that she'd be able to explain it for he was still too dumbstruck to utter a single word. When he looked at Hermione, her eyes were wide and mouth agape. Closing his eyes, Draco massaged the bridge of his nose. "Yes." a huge part of him had hoped that he wouldn't have to explain the horrid reality to her, and that she'd understand on her own given the evidence they had been able to gather. McGonagall flipped through the pages, her eyes finally settling on the paragraph Hermione had deciphered to be Dolohov's entry.

Draco didn't know when Hermione's fingers came to tangle with his, but he didn't complain. Instead of complaining about their sweaty palms mingling, he tightened his hold on her, knowing that right now, what they needed the most was each other.

After a solid six minutes of staring at the journal, McGonagall softly closed the book. Her eyes darted to the both of them. "We need Potter to help us."

Draco couldn't keep the disgust from his demeanor any longer, immediately scoffing at his name. But this didn't affect Hermione who was already speaking to McGonagall about it.

He noticed she had let go of his hand.

"Yes, of course." Hermione smiled at the thought of the best friend she hadn't talked to in months. It was very stupid— a childish feud that had temporarily parted them, but she could see now that things won't be the same as before. This was more important than some stupid kiss cam and her kissing a boy.

_Harry would understand,_ she told herself, _he always does, that's why we're best friends. _

"Hermione, I want you to see him first thing tomorrow along with Mr Weasley in my office, talk this through, tell them the details and I'm sure we might be able to get something. I'll be here to supervise you all, of course." she spoke with an air of finality, "And you too, Mr Malfoy, I want you down here with your fellow head. I'm sure you won't bring up the childish feud you have with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley and be on your best behavior."

Draco didn't say anything but nodded instead, not trusting the words that would follow would deemed proper or not.

**_Three hours later,_** as they sat in their dorm while Hermione continued to tackle the writings in the sodding journal, Draco couldn't help but think how much time they were wasting. Yes, the journal was important and the words it housed, but what was the point in continuing to decipher the individual codes and words from death eaters while they had gotten the main idea from the journal? All they needed to know what that their suspicion of Voldemort being resurrected wasn't a suspicion anymore, it was the harsh reality. Draco looked over his shoulder to see his girlfriend with her nose pressed deep into the book. A quill, splattered drops of ink and several pieces of parchment littering around the whole dorm. It was as condemning as it was visually appealing.

He tried to ignore the disgust he felt just thinning of Potter and meeting him tomorrow along with that ginger Weasely. If we could get any more unlucky, he'd wager that she-Weasel would also accompany them.

"Why Potter?" he paced the living room, nearly smashing into the small coffee table, "It doesn't make sense!" he screetched, moving his hands all over the place, "Bloody Potter, here to save the day all over again, ain't he? So bloody perfect, everyone loves him." Hermione tried her best not to pay him any mind, if she did, she was fully aware of the drama that would commence. Right now, an argument with her boyfriend regarding her best friend was the last thing she wanted. However, she did hope that he'd shut up so she could work in peace on the sodding journal before her.

She saw Draco in her peripheral vision, biting his nails in anger, a habit he had just picked up. The first time she had seen him do it was when she had scolded him for being too sloppy about his homework, she could see how badly he wanted to scream at her (and maybe she did go a little too out of line, she supposed but things regarding their studies really bothered her to the maximum) but instead of that, he had assorted to nail bitting.

When Draco realised Hermione wasn't going to answer to any of his pleas of anger, he decided to direct his anger to the stupid journal, a _real_ problem that was actually taking a lot of time.

"Okay. That's it." Draco announced. The journal's presence was giving him a migraine. He walked over to the where Hermione was crouched, all her attention on the book. In one swift motion, he snatched the book from her hands.

"Hey!" Hermione screeched. She stood up on her tiptoes, hands up above to reach the wriggling book Draco held up on the air. "Draco! Give that back to me!" her fingers coiled around his shirt collar while the other reached out to grasp the book. The scene brought sheer amusement to Draco's face. He couldn't help but contain a small grin that formed on his face.

"What was that? Forgive me if I can hear you. I can't even see you up hear." he made an animated motion to look around.

"Very funny. Mocking me for being too short. I'm not short, you're just too bloody tall!" she screeched, desperately pulling at his sleeves to to make a grab for the journal.

"GIVE THAT BACK!"

"No." he smirked.

Hermione was mere seconds away from losing it completely. She had been attentively working on one of the passages in the journal when he had snatched the item from her mid-process. Did he have any idea how hard it was to not only translate the passages by first hitting them with various spells but also, identifying the language? No, he didn't. So he better not continue this torture.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." she said throughout gritted teeth, her fingers tangling in her busy hair. "You're wasting my time! We don't have much time up our sleeves either! Why won't you let me—" it was then that Draco tossed the journal on the table from a height Hermione couldn't even fathom without worrying, (mind you, it was already in such a fragile condition) and took her shoulders in his hands, his grip firm.

"That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!" he screamed at her, "We are wasting time! There are so many more things we could be doing instead of rummaging around a sodding journal! Hermione Mal-" he stopped then and there with his scolding.

Draco couldn't believe it. What was he thinking? About to call her with his surname? She had just looked so beautiful, he had lost it- messing up not only his heart all over again but also, her last name. It was impossible to fathom the idea of something like-

_Marriage_.

Draco shivered, though he did a good impression of not showing it on his face. The way his heart clenched at the mere thought of marriage was a reminder of epiphany as well as great sorrow- how could he even think of something like that when the world was in danger all over again? It had hardly been a fucking year and some asshole was already trying to bring back the darkest wizard of all time.

_It was just a slip of the tongue, _Draco chastised, his pulse becoming erratic. Though it had been wholly unintentional, the idea had already started to bloom in his mind, it gave him that little nudge to consider oblivion, whether he wanted to or not, didn't matter. The mere slip had caused am entire scene to flash before his eyes right at that moment- his ears rung of laughter, laughter that he realized belonged to Hermione, the girl he loved and adored more than anything else in the world. In an instant, she had turned around in his reverie, smiling at him with all her shiny pearls in an ethereal white dress, her messy hair had actually been tamed in his flashes, she looked magnificent. He saw her right then, ushering him to move forward, right next to her. Still rooted to the ground firmly, he waited till it ended, waited for Hermione to smack him across the face and for someone to wake him up for even for a split moment, it looked too perfect of a life for someone like him, and he didn't want to believe it. He didn't deserve it, so why trick yourself into thinking you did?

And then, the girl in his mind was speaking though he could hear little to nothing over the uneven beating of his heart but when it finally did make sense, he was met with cold water on his face.

"You literally blacked out as we were arguing." Draco registered the events of the last half a minute: he had nearly called Hermione by his last name, drifted into some sort of parallel universe where Hermione had stood at the altar in a beautiful white dress and he hadn't taken a step forward when she had called him.

Followed by, of course, the much needed water splashing against his face. His silver orbs went to Hermione, golden eyelashes drilling water droplets like honey, thick and beady. She was holding a goblet between her fingers, looking at him like he had been obliviated. The words were hard to choke, "Wha-what?"

"I said," she sighed, hung her head before lifting it up again. He observed her taking a step closer to him, her breasts lightly brushing against his chest, he gulped. Hermione clutched the end of her sweater's sleeve in her fingers as she dabbed his face with it. One of her hand went to tangle around his collar while the other worked effortlessly to wipe off any residue from the water. Draco could only watch her. After what he had witnessed in his little placid dream, this was a very cruel reality. That things were extremely shitty right now, that all of them were under an alarming threat of war yet again and that everything else, including marriage, love, friends, family, everything had to wait. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, his eyes scanning everything except her. Maybe she had not heard him—

"And did you just call me Malfoy?" her face was devoid of any expression.

_Okay, maybe she had heard me._

"Don't be stupid Granger," he strode off towards the end of the dorm, desperate to put at least some kind of distance between them for he did not know how much more could he of the idea of perpetual happiness with a woman as pure and good as Hermione Granger. The idea seemed too perfect to cling onto, the single thread of hope that had hung from thin air was too good for anyone to grasp. Draco nearly stopped breathing when he saw her taking small graceful strides in his direction. She closed the space between them in mere seconds before she was once again, chest to chest, eye to eye and heart to heart with him. Her eyes glint with a new kind of amusement, her warm brown irises dancing around her cornea, taunting him of what he had said earlier but at the same time, not, for she was yet to speak anything. "Why did you stop?" It was the last thing he had expected to tumble out of her pretty mouth. "Midway." Her voice was silky like rich melted chocolate of the finest caliber, so seductive and at the same time, so honest.

_How do I answer that?_

"Hermione—" but she had already claimed his mouth in a heated kiss. Pushing herself onto her tiptoes, she tangled her fingers in his hair and the rest knotted in a rather inelegant knot against his collar. It was not a brutal kiss, the kind of kisses they had shared alone in the confinement of their bedroomswhen they had been isolated from the entire world. This was tender, sweet and reeked of love and sheer delight one felt when they saw they favourite person, when their heart skipped a beat at the mere sight of the person they had surrendered their heart over to, the kind of feeling one felt when, in spite of having everything in the bizzare universe, nothing made sense if it weren't for the person they loved wasn't with them.

The kind of feeling Hermione felt for Draco and vice versa.

"Oh, and honey," she looked at him in the eye, "Stop bad mouthing my best friend, it's so seven years ago, that."

Draco stood shook.

"You're doing to be the death of me Granger," and then, her hands were roaming all over his torso, over the black button up he wore which was all wrinkled, (thanks to her) his taut muscles on the back, his hair— nowhere in particular yet everywhere. He smelt of her, he realised; the scent of cinnamon and honey had mingled not only with his breath but had left its aura on his hands, too, which he realised was due to the excessive touching. You could lock him up in a room full of people and all sorts of fragrant flowers and have him blindfolded, but he'd still be able to identify that particular scent that his lover possessed.

Suddenly, she was pulling back from his mouth, her lips a beautiful rosie hue. His hand was still on her waist, treading up slowly towards her breasts. Draco didn't know why she had pulled back but when she spoke, he knew that he'd rather have her say this than do anything else on the world, even if it meant giving up kisses, it was just that simple.

"I love you."

With a tilt of his head, Draco brought up his cold fingers to reach for the chain around her neck. When he touched her skin, she never shivered, his cold skin was not a problem to her anymore. Skillfully, he caressed the key pendant in the middle, slightly pulled it forward, causing Hermione to lean closer than she had already been. With a look of determination and utter love, he kissed the pendant in between his finger whilst keeping his eyes locked with the girl before him. When he heard her gasp, Draco let the pendant drop back to its original position on her chest, taking the liberty to then, lean forward himself and presses his cold lips to her skin right above the pendant, his tongue licking her off in the aftermath like honey.

No words were spoken, only the affectionate voices in their hearts were exchanged under the blissful canopy of the four poster bed, hand in hand, limb tangled to limb, waiting for a world which never parted them from each other for the aftermath would only mean one thing for either,

Death.

**————————**

"—And remember to behave," Hermione reasoned with the blond sitting in the love seat, his arms crossed and a childish pout on his face. Hermiome left her seat from next Tom. Him and crouched down next to his knees, after all, he did refuse to look at her in the eyes. "Please," she added silently, catching Draco's slate eyes

McGonagall's office was still vacant with no sign of either Harry or Ron. McGonagall, however, had excused herself to be somewhere. When they had both looked at her skeptically, she bad sighed and told them that she was going to get help. Neither of the two knew what it meant so they assorted to keeping their mouths closed. If Minerva McGonagall wanted to do something, nothing in the world would stop her, simple as a _wingardium leviosa_ to Hermione in first year.

"Granger, stop worrying! You're ticking me off! I'm a rational adult, I know how to keep my cold mask of fury intact under my charming face, so be a darling and scoot over. I don't want them to see you after months only to find you in a plausible blowjob position." Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione blushed. True to his words, it did look something like that. They were seated right in front of the door and when someone came in, their first guess would have to be the vile scenario Draco so unabashedly implied. Hermione stood up, ready to be sated as far as possible from him just so Ron and Harry won't try to cause an argument, they were still unfamiliar to the love Draco and her shared. Before she turned, Draco grabbed her wrist, her eyes fell to his fingers wrapped around her thin wrist. With a sigh, she saw him get up and hold her hands.

Warmth spread through her heart.

"I'm sorry." he closed his eyes, "It's just really difficult, all this... having to do it all over again. Like I'm some bloody enemy, even now, even after everything over the course of the last few months. You get it, Hermione. I don't think they will so I'm not counting on it either." he let out a dry chuckle. "And of course I'll behave, I can't let my first real girlfriend down now, can I?"

Hermione smiled just when he kissed her temple.

"Girlfriend?"

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry?"

Said three voices in unison.

Hermione whipped her head to her side to see Harry, Ron and Ginny with shocked faces. The first time she had properly seen them all in months, and not just passing by or in classes. With horror written all over her face, she spared one glance at Draco and she knew it then, the smirk on his face confirmed that he was aware of their existence.

_That sodding git actually took advantage of her back being to the door!_

Ginny looked happier out of them all, she actually had a smile on her face which made Hermione smile too. It was nice to see someone was rooting for her relationship. She suspected that some part of Ginny already knew this was happening given how the last time they had properly talked, Ginny Weasley had managed to make Hermione uncomfortable with questions about the blond in bed, all for the right reasons, of course.

Harry looked uncomfortable. His eyes danced from Hermione to Draco to everything else in the office, though he spoke nothing of the matter. Ron, on the other hand, looked absolutely mad. Hermione could swear that she saw the tips of his ears turning a flaming red.

_Oh gods, Hermione closed her eyes in frustration, this is going to be harder than I thought._

_**If I had included the entire conversation they had in this chapter, this would've jumped to 6k words, so I saved it for the next chapter. Tell me how this was, it's been so long and I miss you guys. Leave a review, love you all. **_


	22. 20 The Boy Who Lived, Our King and Gin

"Are you fucking kidding with me right now?"

"Ron-" Hermione was about to come to him when suddenly Draco grasped her hand in his. Her eyes fell on their entwined fingers just before she looked at the blond by her side. "Let go of me." she seethed, her eyes closing in anger. Hermione didn't want it to be this way but Draco and Ron were behaving like stupid children. She didn't even want to fathom what would Harry say next. It was tough as it was already. Draco gave her an amusing glance, his gaze fling over the ginger twins and then at Potter before finally on Hermione. The anger on her face clearly meant no bullshit. Just as fast as he had grasped it, he let her hand go, stepping back with his hands up in surrender and a playful frown on his face.

"Ron—" Hermione spared no second glance at Draco, quickly walking off towards the three friends she felt like she hadn't seen in a lifetime.

"We leave you for a few months. Don't talk to you. Don't see you. And this is what you do? Merlin, disappointment is an understatement here." well, he sure didn't spare any concealed profanities.

"Ron, please, listen—" Hermione chastised despite the tears burning her eyes. She knew her friends would react harshly but she didn't think it'd be this much. As she put up her hands in definitive surrender and trudged forward, her heart felt like it was being stabbed the moment Ron took a step back, his eyes were full of disgust. Like he couldn't believe she was the same girl they had had years of friendship with, the same girl he had, at some point, loved. While she could understand how hard it could be for her friends, especially Ron to see her this way with Draco, she also wanted them to put behind a fued no one quite frankly needed at this point. Yes, Draco had done several questionable things in the past but she believed everyone, even Draco fucking Malfoy, deserved another chance. All she wanted, at that moment, was for her friends to feel the same way.

Hermione certainly didn't want them to think that Draco had put some kind of magic on her that had left spellbound, no, she wanted them to _understand_.

Understand that loving someone is never a choice, and that accepting a person is okay, as long as they are ready to change for the better.

"This is more important than you, Weasley. Stop overracting. So what if she loves me? We all know you couldn't give the love she deserved, why not just back the fuck off?" Hermione wished Draco hadn't said that because the moment he did, she could feel the tension getting even thicker in the room, she could swear that she could slice through it like butter. Ron was visibly angered—Hermione noticed how the tip of his ears turned as red as his hair. Thank Merlin for Harry who stepped in just when Ron was about to punch Draco.

"Shut up! Both of you! Or I will have your heads on sticks outside the Gryffindor common room." Ginny, who had been silent this whole time, screeched. All eyes shifted to the red head as she gave everyone in the huge office nothing short of a death glare. Briskly, she walked in between the odd pair with four pair of eyes still lingering on her. Ginny sighed, consequently massaging the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm going to say it once and once only. I am assuming whatever Professor McGonagall called us in here for is pretty vital, otherwise, I don't think she'd ever voluntarily put Malfoy and Ron under the same roof. Now, if we can all be civil about this, I'm sure it will all be over soon. You don't have to see him," she turned to her right where Ron stood, still caged in Harry's arms as if he didn't trust him enough to let go just yet. "And you don't have to see him. We all can walk out if this office with our limbs still attached to our body." Ginny peered to her left where she was met with an exasperated Malfoy.

"Are we clear?" neither of them spoke, only continued to huff in annoyance at each others' mere presence. "I said." Ginny fired again, this time, more fiercely, her tone having a sharp edge to it. "Are we clear?" Hermione and Harry had their mouths agape the whole time. While Hermione knew Ginny had quite a temper, she had never believed her to be this wise and blunt. It was maddening to even think— the young girl who had been treated like a child all her life because of six older brothers had a voxie of her own, and Merlin's beard, did Hermione wish she was never on the receiving end of it.

After a brief nod of affirmation was exchanged between the blond and the redhead, professor McGonagall came bustling in through the double doors, a parchment in her hands. Her face was struck with worry, immediately putting the other five people in the room on edge. "There's been a breakout!" she panted. "At Azkaban." her pupil could only stare at her— while Harry, Ron and Ginny had no real knowledge of the matter at hand, when they heard about an Azkaban breakout, they could tell it was something huge, quite possibly as huge as Voldemort. Little did they know, it already was.

"How many?" Harry finally spoke, his voice was a chilled whisper, a kind of voice that ran down your spine.

"I've got people tracing them, Potter. Don't worry—"

"How many escaped, professor?" Harry interrupted her.

Eyes awaited an answer, bodies sweating profusely in the distance.

"Two." she responded, handing them the letter. It was Ron who grabbed the parchment while the others hustled to get a clear view of whatever was written. Draco and Hermione were on Ron's left while Ginny and Harry on the right. "Who escaped?" Draco voiced the horror in his voice, it didn't betray him. His body had started to itch. The world was becoming pitch black as the moments passed and he had no idea why. His mark was burning again and it pained him to the extreme.

_"Is it the parchment?" he found himself asking, "Or just another one of the many horrid episode?"_

His eyes rolled back into his skull and he felt himself falling, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of nothingness. He didn't know what his back hit— maybe it was a cloud or maybe it was the ground, he didn't quite know. All he did, however, know was that the pain was killing him. Death would've been a better penalty compared to the pain running through his body like a tremor, feverent and electric. The last thing he remembered was Hermione calling out his name and then, it was nothing.

Darkness welcomed him like the fast friend it was.

_

"How's he doing?" Ginny looked concerned, her voice was still a little shaky after the news McGonagall had broken to them. It was like the war all over again, the same quivering lips on everybody, the same stale air that smelled of dried blood and the same brave hearts they had been forced to keep throughout the entire time of despair the war had gone on for.

"I don't know." it was true, she didn't know how was Draco. She didn't know if he'd even wake up. All the other times she had witnessed his mark burn wasn't even a quarter as much painful as to the aftereffect this time. Each time, Hermione observed now, the pain had heightened. She knew she shouldn't have listened to him when he had told her not to worry. Of course it was something to worry about! How could she have taken the word of the brat for it! She should've reported it to Madam Pomfrey. Maybe then, she'd know for a fact that even though he had experienced the excruciating pain, he'd still, at least, wake up to her. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

Ginny jerked her head back. McGonagall was holding up sodding journal while Ron and Harry had their eyes widened. It surely was as surreal as their expression gave off, Hermione confirmed to herself.

"Has this ever happened before?" Ginny asked out of the blue. Talking about Draco was the last thing she wanted right now, when she didn't even know how he was doing but she had also just found Ginny, she didn't want to loose her either.

"Yes. Many times. I was just too busy to report it. With all that's been going on, I think I forgot about it myself for a while." Hermione shrugged, her gaze falling on her shoes like they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "I don't know Gin, I don't know why I didn't—" a choked sob escaped her lips. Ginny was right next to her afterwards, cooing her friend as she cried into her shoulder. "I'm such a bad person."

"You're not. Stop saying that." Ginny rubbed her shoulders softly. "We've been through this before, we'll get through this again."

The girl was so full of hope, it made Hermione envious; that she wasn't carrying the same amount of hope that radiated off Ginny. "Okay."

She cast one longing look towards her right where the hallways lead to the infirmary. McGonagall had placed him in an isolated room within the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey treating him as they spoke. Maybe looking at the stoney path that led to him brought her comfort, it was odd, nevertheless, true.

Silence loomed over them like a thick cloud. Neither of the two knew what to say to comfort the other. Things were getting so out of hand, it scared her more than it annoyed her; scared that the threat of yet another Wizarding war was lurking in thin air and annoyed that they weren't doing anything as immediately as they should've been doing. Before she could ponder further on the matter, Harry and Ron made their way towards them, their faces glum.

"I still can't believe someone is trying to revive Voldemort again." Harry sighed. "So much happened and you didn't tell us earlier, 'Mione?"

Hermione had no answer to that. She had been so caught up with Draco and her feelings for him that the idea of telling something as big as this had completely slipped her mind. It's not like she didn't want to tell them, of course she would've wanted to; just that they hadn't actually been in a talking place at that time, they had been in different boats, different problems— all for naught. Hermione rubbed her cold hands together. They were approaching the start of February now, while the wind was still chilly most of the time, the beautiful sunsets every now and then paid off wholly for it; her favourite part.

"I'm sorry." was all she could offer.

Her eyes meet Ron's and immediately, she felt herself lowering her gaze. She didn't know what she had actually done that was so bad but somehow, she felt guilty. It was a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach, daunting and frightful.

"McGonagall told me about his mark burning. Not going to lie, sounds very dangerous. I don't know why you didn't think it was serious." he added, just when Hermione though he was done scolding her. "You've been very carel—"

"Yes okay, Harry, we get it. Now can we please talk about where we go from here? What do we do to prevent this mess?" Ginny grasped Hermione's hand, giving her a warm smile. Hermione returned the gesture timidly.

Harry gave her a stern look but sighed anyway. "McNair and Dolohov escaping Azkaban isn't a pointer I'm happy to start with but it's the only pointer we have except for Malfoy's burning mark and that journal McGonagall told us about." he gestured to Ron who nodded. "The best thing to do would probably jot everything down and then, maybe, just maybe, it might get easier to make a connection between all these occurances." without waiting for their word, Harry was already dashing off into McGonagall's office. Ron followed suit, with Ginny grabbing Hermione's hand and leading her to the cabin. Hermione cast one last glance toward the hospital wing before being swept away by her friend.

"I love you, please be okay." she whispered under her breath, directing her eyes towards the brave fellow Gryffindor dragging her.

_

"At what time did they breakout of Azkaban, professor?" Harry had a parchment spread on the table and a quill in his right hand. Ginny and Ron surrounded him, while McGonagall stood opposite to him, clasping her hands. Hermione, knowing all this stuff before, stood on the opposite corner of the place, the parchment McGonagall had brought earlier with her, in her hands. There was just something very peculiar about the parchment. She didn't know if anyone had noticed but Draco's mark had been triggered by it. But it seemed so stupid and unreal. How could a parchment cause his mark to burn up?

"According to the officials posted at Azkaban, it was sometime around midnight. They have a great head-start. I do not even want to imagine what they would be doing right now." McGonagall spoke, her eyes closing. She could understand, it was all just a huge nightmare nobody wanted to believe in.

"I don't understand, how are they both alive? I tought we had managed to kill them for good." Ginny had a good point. It attracted Hermione's attention immediately. She twirled the parchemnet in between her fingers but refused to let go of it. Come to think of it, how had they survived? She didn't even know that they were locked up in Azkaban. Hopefully, all four students looked at their professor.

"As far as my memory goes, I recall Hagrid slamming Walden McNair against a wall during the battle of Hogwarts. I am not so sure about Dolohov." her voice was timid and apologetic.

Silence loomed over them, the aura of tension thicker than ever. The threat of war could be heard like hooves of horses stomping down the earth right in their hearts. Hermione felt her fingers twitch; usually, at times like this, she had grown accustomed to snaking her fingers with those of Draco's who always stood to her side. She recalled tangling and untangling their fingers together just for the sake of it, laughing and kissing him in the privacy of their four walls.

When did things get so complicated?

"And what about this new horcrux? It's simply impossible. I mean-" Harry stammered for words. "We destroyed them all! The cup, the locket, the diary, everything!" his fingers tangled in his black locks. "It can't be. It simply can't be." it was then that Hermione decided to come to her friend's aid. She clasped her hand around his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this. Just like we did last time." her smile was small but welcoming. For a moment, she could feel a bit of burden lifting off her chest.

She still had her friends by her side, it was therapeutic.

"Do you think—" Ron sighed, like be didn't even want to voice the words. "The journal is a horcrux?" he jutted his chin out in affirmation, towards the black leather book sitting on the table before them. All eyes snapped to the journal, nobody had considered the possibility before but nobody could deny that it could be a true hypothesis.

It did raise a good question, didn't it?

**On the other side of the castle,** Draco Malfoy tossed and turned his hospital bed. Something just wasn't right about it; he was sweating like a pig and his palms were too clammy. A thick bead of sweat had formed on his upper lip as well as his cheeks and the slender form of his nose. Either the room was getting too hot or he was losing his mind. How could it be this hot when they were just ending the month of January? As if to give him a scare, he heard the only window on the small room open and then shut with an approximate duration of 5 seconds. He tried to open his eyes but his vision was still hazy, his nose was stuffed so he had to open his mouth to grasp some bit of oxygen that he could. His vision betrayed him, from pitch black darkness, he welcomed the lackluster of colorful floating particles of an outline that graced his vision.

And then he heard a voice.

"Draco..." it was like a dementor was speaking to him. His breathing become even more erratic while his eyes closed. There was just something about that voice, something so familiar, something so daunting that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had heard that voice, he was sure but where, he didn't know.

His throat was as dry as the Sahara, even breathing was becoming more difficult as the minutes passed. He could feel someone breathing over his face for a second before...

Before he was screaming again.

Something sharp and hot had just traced his skin in a pattern.

**Hello, please leave a review! I'd be forever thankful. Also, I'll proofread this tomorrow, I'm sooo tired right now. :( can anyone guess who's the culprit? ;) 10 points to your house if you do!**

**Till next time, lots of love, me. xx**


	23. 21 Traitor

_"The mark will guide you." _

The last thing he remembered hearing before opening his eyes into reality.

A glance down at his arm revealed another surprise.

_Traitor_.

The horrid word was scrawled across his inner forearm, droplets of blood still rolling down from the perfect cursive font indicating that it had been just carved. Draco's lungs had given out by the time he heard the window creak open and with a swift dash, the culpritʼs silhouette was already gone. His own vision had betrayed him- the dark cloak had masked everything about the intruder; from his appearance his words which Draco knew held double meaning. It didn't matter if he thought he had heard the voice somewhere before because the person was already gone.

Even if he did remember the voice at some point later, he wouldn't be able to put a face to it.

"Fuck!" he screamed, finally, it was epiphany. "Fuck! Fucking hell! Fuck!" the mark on his arm was burning again, this time, the pain was double; given the agony from the mark itself and the bloody word scrawled onto him like second skin. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, for what, he did not know. All the Malfoy heir knew was that it was making his eyes water and the world around him spin. He'd give anything in that given one moment to even fucking trade lives with nearly headless Nick if it meant that he had to live his life as a ghost for the years to come, only if it provided to be a substitute for the searing pain in his body.

"FUCKING HELL WHERE IS EVERYONE?!" He was tossing violently in the shaking single bed, as if his body had bend shackled. "Hermione!" he tried again, this time louder, his throat sore. "Hermione?! Professor! Potter?! Anyon—" fuck was going to regret this. "WEASLEY!"

It was only then that he saw Hermione make her way inside the room, she peaked a look from the door first, confusion written all over her face before finally seeing his state and pushing the door wide open to let herself in. Potter and the two Weasleys followed suit. "Draco?" Hermione cupped his hot face in her hands. She ran her either thumb on his cheeks while holding his face. With her brown eyes wide, she searched his own for answers. "What's wrong? What happ—"

But he beat her to it.

"Someone was here!" he stood up shakingly, his legs betraying him as he fell down on his knees, the mark was making him lose the little bit of sanity he held. "Someone—" it was becoming difficult to breathe, let alone speak but Draco knew this could be their only chance to catch the bastard who had just fled the scene; he might as well take his chances. Smart as always, Draco found a way to communicate with the four shocked faces without speaking. He jutted out his forearm, the other one where the mark wasn't tattooed on his pale skin to reveal the word _traitor_.

Ginny gasped and so did Hermione.

With one final look out the window and then at Potter, Draco had already passed out in Hermioneʼs arms.

But it didn't matter, he had managed to tell them— so when his drooping eyes saw Potter and Weasley run in the direction of the small window, he knew he had done the right thing.

The world around him was spinning but the thought of doing the right thing for once, actually played the role of the solid in this dizzy sway of restlessness.

**_——————_**

_He was screaming.__There was a huge pool of blood right next to where he stood.__One look around him and he knew where he was— the dining room back at the Manor where everyone sat to discuss the Dark Lordʼs next tactic to take down the Wizarding World. The seat reserved for him, however, was taken for he was standing next to the head of the table, Voldemort himself.__The table was for gruesome elites— wizards and witches who didn't even flinch when they Avadaʼed the shit out of an innocent soul, people who didn't give a flying fuck about children who had to suffer when their parents were killed by them or parents who had to go through the agony of losing a child being murdered right before their eyes, no, these were highly ranked psychopaths who battled to be on the top spot for The Dark Lordʼs number one.__He had been eliminated from the head table at his own house; while it was music to his ears on one hand, it was also equally terrifying because it confirmed the what he had already experienced.__And then, he say Bellatrix point a crooked finger at him, laughing in a sadistic manner. "Traitor." she had giggled, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter which slowly turned into sadistic smiles.__"You've betrayed your morals, boy." it was his aunt again, she was walking towards him. All he could do was look. "And you will pay for doing so." without a warning, she pulled his forearm forward and traced a long fingernail to his red skin, digging deeper as the seconds went by.__"Traitor." she repeated, flashing him her yellow teeth. "All shall end soon. The Dark Lord will rise ag—"_

"NO!" a high pitched scream and a full violent shaking later, he came face to face with Granger.

For three minutes, no words were spoken. While Draco continued to look at the woman before him with wide eyes and heavy breathing, Hermione studied his face with utmost attention. He noticed tears pickling her eyes but she was quick to divert his attention. "It was just a nightmare, Draco." she cupped his cheek and smiled a little. "Everything is fi—" but she never got to finish the sentence for he was already pouncing on her, his lips claiming her own in a heated fervent kiss. Her mouth was already waiting her like a question, begging to be answered by just his own lips. His tongue swiped across her bottom lip and then, her tongue; it was like the serpent tempting Eve and Adam in the garden of Eden all over again— Adam chose to feast on the apple with Eve and give knot temptation; this was him, all him, ignoring everything else in the world and giving it all up for the woman he loved.

The apple had never tasted so sweet.

She tasted of cinnamon with brief traces of rich dark chocolate; if he had to, he'd wager that she'd been stress eating all those chocolate frogs she said she'd save for next year's Christmas.

_We all knew that was a lie._

"You're still here." a kiss was pressed to her neck and then down her collarbone, the skin slightly nipped at to entice her.

_It worked, he heard a heavy moan_.

"Hmm," She pulled back to look into his eyes. It was maddening to think that Hermione Granger could hold him captive by just his sight; could speak to him without words and always, and he did mean always, manage to make him calm down.

"Where else would I go if not next to you?" she half smiled at him, pressing one lingering kiss to his forehead as she cupped his burning skin in her palms.

Something pulled at his heart.

It was utterly shocking to wonder how far Draco had come with his prejudices and virtues— it was like he was a new person again, someone who had just experienced the joy of being birthed into the world, someone who was led by the finger to tell the dos and don'ts of the world all over again; only this time, unlike the last time, he knew he was doing the right things. And it was all thanks to the girl before him. Quite literally, she had rescued him from the tangled thorns of evil and mockery, scolded him at all the wrong things he had done and told him what was right and what would only bring heartbreak in the future to him.

A sudden thought pulled him out of his reverie about Hermione and he was already scrambling up on his feet, pulling Hermione with him. "The intruder—" he yelled with eyes wide, "Did you catch him? Did Potter and—"

Hermioneʼs shoulders visibly slumped, he could swear he heard her gulp, too.

"Oh." was all he supplied, slumping back to his former position with his back against the wall, arms dangling off his knees as he crossed them.

"I'm sorry, he was too quick." she went upto him again, eager to lock arms with him as they sat down next to each other— their minds haywire but not a single coherent word on their lips.

"It's not your fault." the old Draco Malfoy had hexed the other person into oblivion rather than admit it wasn't their fault. He would've also thrown in a chair or two for good measure, just in case.

While some would term him weak, he knew exactly where he stood on the chain of supremacy— for there was no greater deed than that of forgiving someone.

While she had spoken the truth, her heart believed otherwise. She already knew Draco would tell her that it's not her fault, but it felt wrong all sorts of levels. It felt like it was the collective failure of the five rather than one person.

"But we did manage to find something." she perked up, eager to lighten the tensed mood.

The pale boy before her regarded her with speculative grey eyes.

"Yeah?"

If not anything, this whole mess had given them one more lead.

"The person we're looking for,"

"It was a man," he interrupted her, his mind going back to earlier today.

"Go on, love." fingers were entwined, lips were touched.

Too baffled with what he had called her, she tried to focus with a shake of her head. Hermione sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. "We know they can infiltrate the castle."

Eyes wide, Draco opened his dry mouth to speak, "You mean—"

"It's someone who was part of the castle. We're dealing with a traitor." Hermione confirmed his thoughts.

To think that there was a definitive chance they had met this person, maybe even talked to them at some point and trusted them in one way or another was completely horrid to wonder. They knew they had seen this person but they didn't know how exactly he looked like, they knew he could talk but how did they exactly sound like, question after question bugged their heads until they both couldn't take anymore. The room was becoming claustrophobic as the seconds passed by; the walls closing up on them, their throats tightening. They both had, at some point, dealt with a murderer and they didn't even know it until now.

"It's been a long day," she tried to divert his mind from the obvious fear clicking in their minds. "Let's go to bed." almost immediately, she saw Draco smirk.

"You perv!" Hermione pushed lightly, failing to hide the little smile on her face and the blush tainting her cheeks. "You're sleeping in your own room tonight."

"But—" horror grasped him immediately.

"Goodnight, I love you." she had already kissed his lips and strolled her way towards her bedroom, leaving Draco alone to wonder in the small living room. He stood there for a good minute or two before scoffing and turning on his heels like the prat he already was. "Fine. But don't come crawling back when you miss the absence of my fingers down your knickers, Granger." with the absurd statement out of his mouth, he raised his nose and went to the other side of their dorm.

His bed it was then.

"It's been a while." he regarded the mattress before him with dull eyes. Eversince they had started sharing beds months ago, Draco had come to realise that Hermioneʼs bed was softer and dare he say, more comfortable; guess putting in extra effort to fluff up the pillows in the morning actually did something. While he believed it wholeheartedly, even he knew that he'd never admit it to her— so, day after day, he had found an excuse to stay in her room. It had been a good month or more the last time he had slept in his own bed. Now, the thing just seemed useless to him.

"Just you and me buddy, just you and me." and with that, he plopped down on the mattress with a soft thud.

As mundane the bed looked to him, sleep did come to him, if not immediately but still, it did.

**_—————_**

Something was crawling.

Something was twisting.

Something was horribly itching.

Something was making him scream.

Skin.

Pale and bloody.

Skin.

But it wasn't the burn that had graced him far after midnight, no, it was something else. Had it been the usual burn of the mark etched into his pale skin, it would've shaken him from the core—this, this was something else for it only targeted the skin on his right forearm.

He didn't know when it stopped— the burn or the screaming, all he knew was that his skin was burning, something was being carved into it.

He slapped himself to make sure he wasn't dreamimg, or worse, hallucinating.

He wasn't.

Hermione was quick to barge in, her hands cupping his face on instinct. It seemed like the only thing he did was cause trouble for her, he was the damsel in distress and she was the knight in shinning armor— the roles had been completely switched.

"Draco—" tears were streaming down their faces.

And then, he stopped turning.

"Look—"

With her tears falling down, she managed to turn her head in the direction of Draco's gaze.

An audible gasp was heard from them both.

The word traitor had vanished from Draco's skin. Instead, there was _something else_ written on his skin.

Hermione had never seems such a spell, but as far as her knowledge went or her mind, for the matter, she knew.

She knew what was happening.

He did, too.

And all they could do was watch the cursive writing on his skin in fearful silence.

Their culprit was trying to communicate with Draco.

**——————**

_Hello, hope everyone is well. Truth be told, I had mixed feelings about updating this story again but when I saw so many of you still hadn't given up on it, I thought why should I? Thank you for your continuous support. I don't know if this cvaoter even gets noticed but if you do resd it, I appreciate it.__Not proofread.__As always, leave a comment and vote if you liked it!_


	24. 22 The Calling

**Okay guys. I'm fishing this story in record 5-7 chapters. Buckle up. I've been working hard on this. It really needs to be finished. This is one of the best things I've ever written. I'm not letting this go to waste.**

**Also, starting off with a rather shorter chapter than usual just to get the rhythm going. **

Draco remembers shaking.

He remembers screaming.

He remembers his throat getting dry from all the yelling.

He remembers his skin burning, like an branding iron is pressed hot against his forearm.

He remembers seeing faces behind his eyelids. Faces that showed death and desire wrapped up together in a bothersome duo.

He remembers wishing for it to stop. He calls out Hermione's name but his throat is closing up on him, he can't speak, can't force a word out of his mouth.

She's there.

She is shaking him by his shoulders with a force he didn't quite know she possessed. Judging by the movement of her lips, she is screaming his name, a perfect o leaving its mark on her mouth in a stressful aftermath. He is being pulled down and down, deep knot a void of nothingness that doesn't fail to slap the truth in his face— that he is falling and nobody is going to save him. That's what was left if Draco Malfoy; a pool of nothingness, a hallow pit for him to toss in his own worries, nightmares and thoughts.

He's falling.

His limbs feel detached to his body. He feels light, like a bird in a free sky, unchained by the shackles of what his parents taught him, what the forced him into. Free from the manacles of the rest of the gruesome people who have guided him all his life, guided him to evil. Of all th things he possessed, his heart, dear God, feels the heaviest. Till almost a years ago, he had constantly told himself that he didn't posses a human heart for he was too driven by his own actions and ideas. For a boy who had always wanted to bring out the worst in others and himself, if was the only truth Draco had believed. He had conjured up his own ideas, seeding them deep into his mind until he had grown to shape his life around those affirmative principles. He had constantly told himself, over and over, time and again that this was, indeed, who he really was— cold, manipulative, sadistic and selfish.

He never wanted to be this way, no.

All he had ever wanted was acceptance.

The chance to be told that he did not need to put labels on himself, to term himself to demeaning adjectives and that he was fine the way he was.

Fine.

Not grand, not extraordinary, not extravagant nothing, just fine. He had longed to be called normal, but when a little child does not get what he wants to hear, he goes astray.

Draco is the prime example of what you get when parenting goes terribly wrong.

And he accepts it.

Because what started from bad parenting has had him go through hell and back for the sake of his own self.

Look at him now.

How pitiful, one would say.

Consumed by his own thoughts. Too weak to put up a fight. Driven to the brink of insanity from past events. From to fits and nightmares thanks to trauma.

Is this was life, he did not want it.

All too fast, he's falling, deeper and deeper. He waits for his back to hit the ground, hopes to hear the sound of his bones cracking, wishing to just fucking die.

But.

A ghost of air passes through his throat and he latches onto it like a maniacal predator.

It's his lifelines, it's Hermione.

A minute follows and he's already opening his eyes in the midst of all the haze and dizziness that surrounds him. He's about to stand in a frenzy but is pushed down by a soft hand on his chest. Soft warm eyes meet him with tears, swollen lips that indicate she's been the one to bring him back to life.

Part of him wants to cry that he's just not dead already, but a bigger part of him is extremely happy for he gets to see the love of his life once again.

Seconds become minutes, minutes feel like hours as they try to catch their breath, trying to control their trembling selves and align their thoughts from being too clustered.

And then, she reaches for his hand, wrapping her index finger around his thumb in an attempt to make physical contact. "Are you—" she can't finish the sentence and it breaks her heart knowing that he was the one to inflict this pain on her. Draco's hands come up to cup her cheeks and then, his lips, up to her forehead. He forces himself to press a chaste kiss to her skin, tears rolling down his cheeks and hands shaking. Too shaken to nod, he tells her that he's fine with a nod.

Before he can bring himself to speak, Hermione's eyes have already widened for the second time in five minutes. Something tells him it's not a good thing.

"Draco, your arm—" the attention was brought back to the pressing matter at hand.

Hermione came up to sit next to him, her fingers wrapping around his in a gesture of comfort and relaxation. It did wonders to calm him down. His breathing stabilized and so did his erratic heartbeat. Both two pairs of eyes were focused on his pale skin now.

Three words were scrawled in bright red, a disturbing contrast against his porcelain skin. Draco looked at Hermione and then, down back at the words.

_The Manor, Alone._

"But when?" Hermione voiced the obvious.

Just as the words left her mouth, the writing shifted yet again. This time, however, it didn't burn even as fraction bit as much as last time. His best guess had to be that his body had already adjusted to the pathetic pain, the mark serving as an insignia of valour against his skin.

Hermione and Draco watched in utter horror, yet fascination as the writing churned. Forming letters first and then, complete words. It made the two wonder if the culprit could hear them.

Or worse.

He was watching them.

_Dawn_.

Just like that, the writing disappeared before they could make out anything more of it. Hermione was sure if it had stayed a little longer, she may have been able to put a name to whose writing it actually was, with help from the journal. It would've taken them leap ahead in their own war.

"We need to tell McGonagall." Draco spoke for the first time in the evening. His words were steady, though Hermione could see the fear behind his grey eyes. It a housed a complete room of fear and anxiety, threatening to come out of the shackles any time now.

"Yes, we do." he agrees with her.

As they run through the halls towards the headmistressʼ office in their night overalls hand in hand, all Draco can think of is how he just wants this to end, wants this fiasco to finish. He doesn't care if he is on the losing side once again, if he loses again, so be it.

At least the pain would end.

**—————**

Minerva McGonagall looks like she has seen a ghost for the millionth time in a series of just a few days. Bad news after bad news graced her ears. It was making her head spin. She had always been a calm and composed woman, someone who knew how to handle her emotions but when you throw tragedy after tragedy at someone, even the strongest of the lot are bound to lose their courage somewhere in between.

Now, as Hermione explained her everything about what they had just witnessed in their head dorm, Draco could see the slight tremor shaking her hands ever so slightly. If he looked closely, and he meant real closely, he could figure out much more violent shaking in the left hand. He was thankful that Hermione was the one talking, had the job been up to him, he was sure he would've fallen to his knees rather than trying to explain things he was feeling, things that plagued his mind, things that didn't let him sleep. As time was slipping through their fingers, Draco couldn't help but notice how he was a mere pawn in this game between evil and good. The death eaters were using him to their own agenda, his best guess that they were unaware that their ruthless soldier had fallen in love with the Gryffindor princess. They did not know he had switched sides ever since his heart surrendered over to the girl before him, exactly why they were calling him back. Little did they know, he wasn't on their side anymore.

He was Severus Snape all over again.

All his life, he had despised Potter for being the center of attention for everyone, the one name on everybody's lips, the greatest hero they had had who took down not only Voldemort but also his dangerous minions like Bellatrix and Nagini, albeit, not directly, but serving as the driving force who had pushed people towards the light, towards the right thing— to kill these things that didn't belong in a righteous world.

And now.

It was him.

The center of everyone's attention. The one name on everyone's lips, the one who would either destroy them or make them emerge victorious in this fight for what was right and what was wrong. All his life, he had envied Potter for it. But now, when he was in his shoes, it made him want to throw up. Potter had it hard, he realised then, growing up without the luxury of parents and then, being raised up as a pig for slaughter by Dumbledore just so he could save the world.

He didn't envy Harry Potter, no, he pitied him.

"We can not let you go alone, Draco. What if—" McGonagall speaking breaks him out of his train of misery.

"I'll go with hi—" Hermione is up ok her feet but she's cut off.

"Either I..." Draco clenched and unclenched his fists, focusing on counting to ten in his head to align his thoughts. "Either I go alone or not at all. I am not risking anyone's life in case this doesn't work out." the horror etched on Hermione's face combined with repetitive shaking of her head so her caremel curls bounce over her shoulders clearly indicate that this is not what she was hoping to hear.

"You are not in your right mind, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall sighs as she rubs her aching temples. "We can not let you walk in on what seems to be a minefield. You know these people, they would not care if you were hurt or worse, dead in their pursuit of power." while he agrees that she is right, it is still not enough of an enlightenment to step back from his original plan.

"Professor, I understand what you're saying but they called upon me and me alone. While I regard you highly in my mind, I still do not think you know exactly what these barbaric bastards are capable of. If they see someone has mended with their plans, someone uninvited, someone out of their circle of misery, it's bound to end in death after endless torture. I've seen it with my own eyes and I would never, ever, in any way wish to see that kind of pain being inflicted upon the people I care and love." his eyes cut to Hermione who flinches at his words. In an attempt to calm her nerves and his, he reaches for her hand, delight washing over him when she holds it tighter.

"If I get to them," McGonagall is listening intently at his words. She might as well be considering the plan. "I might be able to find out more than what that journal could be telling us."

Hermione wants to scream at him. She wants to tell him to back off and not put himself in jeopardy. For once, she hates how courageous and brave she has made him, for once, she wishes he would go back to his cowardice self so he can sit this out, so he won't get hurt, so he will be alright but the determination in his eyes makes her realise that it's too late for that.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" McGonagall takes the liberty to close her eyes and then open them again, this time, a glossy sheen covering her pupils. No one talks about it, no one points it out.

"Yes. I could get killed, I am perfectly aware." Draco coughs into his other hand, "But it is far less dangerous than putting the lives of the people I love at risk." when his eyes land on her, she knows he had already made up his mind and that nothing she will say or do, will make him reconsider.

All she can do is cling onto the thin rope of sanity and desperately pray that he doesn't hurt himself, it worse,

Surrenders over to death.

**————**

**We are going to the Manor again. Buckle up, bitches.**

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